Greatest American Father
by Trepverter
Summary: WIP Bill is assigned a new junior FBI agent... Tony Villicana. The case involves an investigaton he wants to bury. Kevin doesn't care for the Halloween costume he thinks his dad bought him. Please read and review!
1. Chapters 1 to 5

**The Greatest American Father**

by Trepverter

Chapter One

Ralph stared absent-mindedly into his half-empty cup of coffee.

"You're up early this morning, Ralph," Pam commented, entering the kitchen.

"Mmm," Ralph replied, deep in thought.

"Ralph, are you okay?" Pam asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table across from her husband.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine," he answered. "Do you know what today is?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. "Today is Kevin's 15th birthday. Do you know what that means? He's practically an adult now and I missed his entire childhood!"

Ralph pushed back his chair and stood up. "I've been so busy crashing into windows and walls trying to save the world that I lost my own son in the process."

Ralph began to pace across the kitchen waving his hands as he spoke. "And I must say, I can't fault Alicia for it. I mean, I was upset when we divorced and she sued for primary custody; but who can blame her?"

"Ralph, calm down," Pam said, gently. "You've been there for him all along. Yes, you've taken on a tremendous responsibility with the red suit, but you certainly didn't by any means neglect Kevin. You've always made time for him and he knows you love him."

"So, that is supposed to make it all right?" Ralph said, forcefully. "'Sorry I wasn't around for you Kevin, but you know I love you, don't you?' Hah! That'll be the inscription on the trophy I win for being the 'Greatest American Father'!"

"Ralph, I'm not your enemy," Pam argued.

Pam's annoyed tone took Ralph by surprise. What did I say? Ralph wondered.

"Listen Ralph, Kevin knows you love him because you have been involved in his life; and not just before 'the red suit' but afterwards too. If you're not happy about the amount of time you spend with him, then DO something about it; but for heavens sake, don't make yourself out to be the absentee father who doesn't care enough to bother with his own son because that just isn't true," Pam insisted, slowly rising from her chair. She reached for her cup and angrily tossed the rest of her coffee into the sink before storming into the bathroom.

"Pam?" Ralph called out after her.

She slammed the bathroom door shut behind her and quickly turned the faucet on full force.

"Pam?" He asked, sheepishly. Ralph stood outside the bathroom door and listened for a response. Nothing! Darn these solid wooden doors! He was tempted to slip on the red suit and holograph in on her, but he knew better. The last time he did that she accused him of not respecting her privacy. Glancing at his watch he wondered if it wouldn't be better to just leave her alone.

"Pam, I just want to know you're okay," Ralph yelled through the door trying to sound calm.

Pam slowly opened the door, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Ralph. I'm okay; really."

Ralph moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm sorry if I said something that upset you."

Ralph knew there was something bothering Pam, but she didn't seem to want to talk about it. Maybe she was feeling neglected, he considered. Between Bill, Kevin and his students, Ralph knew he hadn't been home much to spend time with Pam. She had seemed very understanding, and, even relieved, to have the extra time to work at the office on important cases. He was glad that they had set aside this evening to be alone, together.

"Hey, Pam, don't forget about tonight. I made dinner reservations at 'Bernoulli's Bistro'," he said placing both hands on her shoulders and looking her squarely in the face. "It's our night, Pam. Just for us."

Pam nodded, smiling politely. "What about Kevin? You were saying it's his birthday. Don't you want to see him tonight? Isn't he expecting you?"

"No, Pam. Tonight's our night," Ralph answered.

"Ralph, it's okay. I knew when I married you that your son has to come first. Why don't you change our reservations to tomorrow night instead? Saturday night is as good a night to go out as Friday," Pam suggested.

"That isn't necessary," Ralph answered firmly. "Tonight Kevin is celebrating with his friends over at Alicia's. He isn't going to want me hanging around, but I thought we could drop off Kevin's present on the way to the Bistro tonight. See what I picked up?" Ralph said, enthusiastically.

He began searching madly through his pockets until he found what he was looking for in his wallet. Cool, don't ya think?" he said holding up three tickets to a California Stars World Series game. "I thought we could all take in a baseball game; sort of a baseball/birthday celebration."

"Isn't that the team you pitched for a few years back?" Pam asked, curiously. "Where did you get those tickets? I heard they were sold out!"

"Hi-ya Ralph," Bill announced cheerfully, walking in through the front door. "Good morning, Counselor. Say, you're looking as beautiful as ever!"

"Bill, what are you doing here? And how'd you get in? I thought the front door was locked," Ralph said turning his full attention from Pam to Bill.

"Morning, Bill," Pam replied.

"I made myself a copy of your set of keys; just a precaution, in case you lose yours. After all, you are always losing your clothes in odd places."

"Bill, I don't have time for this, I'm already running late. You do know I have a job? Some of us don't get paid for our work with the FBI, ya know," Ralph complained.

"You know you're undercover, Ralph," Bill argued.

"Well, still Bill it would be nice if I could get something to replace the clothes I lose chasing after criminals. Do you know I have only 3 suits left? Ralph shook his head in disgust, "I've really got to get more clothes or fewer cases."

"Never mind that, Ralph. We can talk about that later," Bill cut-in, ignoring Ralph. "Bigger things are brewing, I can FEEL it," he continued. "I've got an important meeting with Carlisle first thing this morning. You know, Ralph, I've solved some major crime cases over these past few years and I think Carlisle is coming around. I think the time has finally come. Imagine; I might be heading up a task force for the next major crime investigation against the mafia or some major league criminals. All that hard work is finally paying off now."

"Glad to hear it, Bill," Ralph replied, grabbing his brief case and stepping out the front door behind Pam.

"Hold on Ralph, I didn't tell you the best part!" Bill called.

Ralph and Pam stopped just as they were about to climb into Ralph's station-wagon.

Bill strolled up to the car, rubbing his chin trying to savor the moment.

"What is it, Bill?" Ralph asked, curiously.

"This is a major step-up Ralph! A move upstairs! Bigger office, more power, better cases! No more 'mickey mouse' cases chasing small-time crooks. We're looking at some serious espionage, major crime syndication stuff! Finally, something we can sink our teeth into!"

"I'm very happy for you Bill," Ralph answered, unenthusiastically. "Now if that's all, I have to get going."

"Now Ralph, we're gonna need to work on the rough stuff. I mean no more flying into windows and crashing through walls. We're graduating to the big leagues now. These guys are gonna see you coming before you get off the ground; they're that good. This means we've got to fine-tune the weak points. Hmm, let's see, I'll swing around about 5:00 tonight to pick you up. That should give us plenty of time before dark."

"No can do, Bill," Ralph answered matter-of-factly. "Pam and I have plans tonight."

"What? Can't you make it another time?" Bill looked disappointed. "Counselor?"

"Sorry Bill, we've got reservations," Pam replied, smiling.

"Reservations! Gosh darn, Ralph, we don't have time to monkey around here!" Bill complained, not willing to give up that easily.

"Sorry Bill, but I haven't had much time with Pam at all these past few weeks. I made this reservation a month ago. Do you know how hard it is to get a reservation at Bernoulli's? We need this Bill and I'm not going to give in on this one," Ralph insisted, climbing into the driver's seat and starting the car.

"Bye Bill," Pam said slipping into the car seat beside Ralph.

"See ya later Bill, good luck with Carlisle. I hope it works out for you," Ralph said, slowly backing the car out of his driveway.

"Yeah, kid," Bill grumbled. "Me too."

**Chapter Two**

The early morning sun shone brightly through the window streaking across Kevin's bedroom and onto his bed. The warm sunshine felt good against his face. Kevin stretched lazily in bed. He had no desire to climb out of his nice comfortable bed and begin his day, until he remembered what day it was.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a ringing telephone. How long had it been ringing, he wondered? He jumped out of bed and reached for the extension on the desk in his room.

"Hello?" Kevin said, sleepily.

"Kevin? Is that you? Did I wake you up?" a harried woman's voice asked, apologetically.

"Huh? Oh no, Aunt Jeanie. That's okay, I was just getting up anyway," Kevin said. What time IS it? He wondered, glancing at the imitation football clock beside his bed. It read 6:33 in thick green florescent numbers.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, Kevin, but is your momma awake?" Aunt Jeanie asked.

Why do people ask that question? Kevin wondered. After all, if she wasn't awake, surely she was awake NOW! "I'll go get her, just a moment please."

Kevin put the phone down to get his mom.

"Mom?" Kevin called as he knocked on her bedroom door. The door wasn't latched and swung open. Kevin noticed that the bed was empty and the bathroom door was closed. As he drew closer to the bathroom, he heard the shower water running and his mom singing. He laughed to himself and knocked on the door.

"Mom, Aunt Jeanie is on the phone. Do you want to call her back or should I have her hang on?" Kevin shouted through the door.

The singing stopped and the shower faucet squeaked as his mom turned the water off. "Kevin? Did you say something?" she called.

"Mom, Aunt Jeanie is on the phone for you. Do you want to call her back or should I have her hang on?" Kevin repeated.

"My goodness, what could she want?" Alicia asked.

"Mom?" Kevin repeated expectantly. He hated this. Why couldn't she just answer him?

"I'm coming, hon. Hey Kev, can you please pour me a cup of coffee? Thanks, dear. Remember no sugar or cream- just black," she replied, emerging from the bathroom in her white terry bathrobe wrapping a towel around her hair.

"Hello? Jeanie?" Alicia asked, picking up the telephone extension beside her bed.

Kevin walked away to hang up the phone in his room and get his mom's cup of coffee.

As he reached the kitchen he could smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee coming from the automatic brewer. He took a deep breath. Coffee sure smelled good. He almost considered pouring himself a cup, but knew he'd hear a lecture about how caffeine was no good for the growing body.

All Kevin's friends drank coffee. They say there isn't anything like the first cup of joe in the morning, Kevin thought. 'Forget the orange juice, Kev, pour yourself a cup of the good stuff', he could almost hear them now.

He removed the pink coffee cup inscribed "To A Model Mom" from the cabinet and slowly poured coffee into it.

"Kev," Alicia said quietly, as she entered the kitchen still in her bathrobe.

Kevin turned and handed his mom the pink cup. He could tell she was worried. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She took the cup from Kevin and sat down at the kitchen table, indicating that Kevin should join her. Kevin slid into the seat across the table from her and waited for her to continue.

"Kevin, as you know, Uncle Frank has been battling cancer for some time. Last night he took a turn for the worse and was taken to the hospital. The doctors told Aunt Jeanie that the cancer had spread and they don't expect him to make it through the night. I have to go be with her and help her through this," Alicia said quietly. "I want you to go stay with your dad while I'm gone."

"Mom, I'll be all right. I'm old enough to stay here by myself," Kevin argued.

"Kevin, I'm not going to argue with you about this. I should be away for a week or two at the most. I'm not going to leave my fourteen year old son alone for that long to fend for himself," Alicia insisted, rising from her chair and disappearing down the hall with her coffee.

"Mom, I'm fifteen and I can take care of myself," Kevin pleaded, calling after her.

Silence.

Kevin knew it was useless. Some birthday this was going to be, he mumbled to himself, returning to his bedroom to dress for school.

**Chapter Three**

Bill checked his watch. 0800 exactly, perfect, he thought as he approached the door to Carlisle's office. He knocked before stepping in.

"Maxwell, have a seat." His boss instructed him without looking up from the papers piled on his desk.

Bill sat down in the chair opposite Carlisle's desk, straining to see the papers his boss was reviewing. The top sheet of paper appeared to be simply a numbered list of dates and addresses.

"Listen Maxwell, I requested this meeting to talk to you about some changes we are making in the department. I know that sometimes you older agents …"

"You mean **_more experienced_**, don't you?" Bill interrupted, smiling broadly.

"Uh, okay, yes you could say that. Sometimes the **_more experienced_** agents can be resistant to changes in the Department. This can cause some tension among the other agents and make certain transitions more difficult; so, I am personally meeting with the old…uh **_the_** **_senior_** agents individually to avoid any misunderstandings. Are you with me Maxwell?" Carlisle asked, looking up from his desk for the first time.

Bill really resented the pedestrian approach this guy was taking. Any ninny could tell Carlisle enjoyed rubbing his senior position in Bill's face. How in the world did this guy get to be his boss? Bill wondered. He remembered what a simple-minded, backward pencil pusher this guy had been as an agent.

"Let's cut to the chase, Carlisle. Obviously the Department is making some changes that they've instructed you to institute. Well, I say it's high time! As you know, I've cracked a number of difficult cases while the young boys were busy chasing their tails. Now, I say, it's time for change and I'm ready. You don't need to worry about me; I'm ready for the major leagues." Bill knew he was rambling, but he was delirious. His dreams were coming true! He envisioned the bus loads of 'America's most wanted' he would capture.

"Glad to hear you're willing to work with us. I was afraid… well, never mind," Carlisle peered over the top of his glasses at Bill.

"Okay, where did they place me? Major Thefts and Violent Crime? Counterterrorism? Counterintelligence?" Bill asked, excitedly.

Carlisle frowned. "I'm afraid you've got it all wrong Maxwell. What we have for you is Special Agent training. You'll be working with newly appointed recruits who have just graduated from the FBI Academy. You'll spend a few months working with each Special Agent helping them to learn how to apply the lessons learned in the Academy."

"You're kidding, right?" asked Bill. Bill leaned back and laughed. "You had me going for a second there, Carlisle. Hah! Good one! Imagine me babysitting new recruits. Seriously, what do you have me down for?" Bill leaned forward for a closer look at the papers on Carlisle's desk.

"Sorry, Bill. I've been instructed to offer you a choice between working with the recruits or conducting background checks and polygraph tests at the home office."

"What?" Bill said in disbelief. "I already do those things. I live for the hunt Carlisle, like a blood hound. You can't leash me to a desk pushing papers. I'll shrivel up and die!"

"I'm sorry you see it that way. You're getting older and slowing down. You've been costing the Department money crashing, burning and destroying cars. You're not a spring chicken anymore Maxwell. You've got good instincts and the Department wants to make good use of them, but you can't be in the front line anymore. Its good for the Department and good for you," Carlisle explained calmly.

Bill sat there gritting his teeth. "Okay Carlisle. I'll do it. When do I meet the kid?"

Carlisle stepped out from behind his desk and left the office for a brief moment. He quickly returned with a youthful looking, dark haired young man.

"Special Agent Bill Maxwell, I'd like you to meet Tony…" Carlisle began.

There was something familiar about this guy, Bill thought. Then it hit him.

"Villicana!" Bill sneered.

"Hey, Maxwell! How ya doin'?" Tony asked offering his hand.

Carlisle looked surprised. "You know each other?" he asked, glancing down at the papers in his hand. "Oh yes, it says here Agent Villicana asked for you by special request Maxwell."

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the hood Villicana!" Bill said, sarcastically.

"Hood?" Carlisle repeated, questioningly.

"Agent Maxwell, you're just the same. I don't know what I expected, but I'm kinda glad you're still the rough edged 'by the book' agent I remember. You know, if it wasn't for you I'd have never joined the FBI," Tony explained.

"Really?" Bill asked. He was beginning to like this. Maybe there was hope for this kid after all, Bill thought.

"Yeah, I figured if they let an old geezer like you loose on the world, they'd certainly take a hood like me!" Tony joked.

"Ha-ha. Very funny, Villicana. Are we done with the jokes now or are you moon-lighting as a comedian?" Bill retorted.

"Will everyone please be seated so we can get something done today?" Carlisle grumbled, sounding more than annoyed.

"Okay, first thing you need to do is show Agent Villicana around. Show him the ropes conducting background record checks, administering polygraph tests, the basic accessing information etc.," Carlisle looked up to see the disgruntled look on Bill's face.

"Something wrong, Maxwell?" Carlisle asked sarcastically.

"No, everything's honky-dory," Bill replied flatly.

"Excuse me, but when can I start some case work?" Tony asked, hopefully.

"I've got your first case right here," Carlisle said tapping his finger on the open file folder in front of him.

Bill immediately sat up. There IS hope, he thought! Finally some real detective work for the master! Sleuthing is my specialty!

"This is a vandalism case. Several instances of property destruction have taken place at various locations across the state line. No theft, just an assortment of property damage. In some cases we have eye-witness testimony; there is reason to believe that these crimes have been committed by one lone offender who remains at large. See what you can come up with," Carlisle said, closing the folder and handing it over to Bill.

**Chapter Four**

Kevin arrived at Whitney High, ten minutes before the first bell. Dad should be getting ready for the first period class, he thought to himself, running toward the Special Education classroom at the East end of the school.

"Don't run in the halls Kevin Hinkley!" warned Vice Principal Kramer, in his usual stern voice.

Though this was Kevin's first year at Whitney High, he was well known by all the teachers and staff at the school. Having your dad as a teacher at your school could be quite an advantage. However there were some disadvantages to being so easily recognized. He could have been around the corner and out of sight had he been some other 'unknown' freshman.

Kevin slowed down until the Vice Principal was out of sight and began running again. He knew he had to be back in the West end of the school before the first bell. Why did the Freshman classrooms have to be so far from the Seniors classrooms! He grumbled.

Turning the corner just before his dad's classroom, Kevin collided with another student.

"Hey kid, watch where you're going!" the other student yelled, scrambling to pick up the books he had dropped.

"Sorry…" Kevin mumbled shyly, bending down to help the student retrieve his books.

Kevin noticed that the students in his dad's class were beginning to gather outside the door. This could only mean that his dad hadn't arrived yet to unlock the classroom.

Kevin looked at his watch. Time was running out and he needed to get back to the other end of school before the bell rang. Come on, Dad! he mumbled to himself. Where are you? he wondered, frantically searching up and down the hallway for the first sign of him.

The crowds in the hallway thinned as the students disappeared into their first period classrooms.

Kevin decided to head back towards the West end of school by way of the front office. Maybe Dad got hung up in there, he thought hopefully and hastened his steps in that direction; but with each step he took, he became more convinced that he didn't have the time to talk to his dad even if he did catch up with him at the front office.

**Chapter Five**

Ralph pulled into the parking lot of the law offices where Pam worked. "How's that for door to door service?" he said, cheerfully. "Nothing but the best for my wonderful wife," he added leaning close to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Pam had been unusually quiet during the whole ride. He wondered if Bill had upset her or if she was still mad at him. Looking closer at her, he noticed she didn't look so well.

"Pam, are you feeling alright? You look a little pale," he asked, growing concerned. "Maybe I should take you to the doctor," he suggested placing his palm against her forehead to determine if she was running a fever.

"I've haven't been feeling quite right; a bit of an upset stomach is all," she said quietly.

"There has been a lot of the flu going around lately. Just this week we were short three teachers. Maybe you should see a doctor Pam. It's always good to catch these things quick and 'nip them to the bud'. Want me to take you?" Ralph asked, gently.

"No, that's okay; I'm beginning to feel better now. I can always stop by Dr. Phillips office if it gets worse," Pam replied patting Ralph's hand reassuringly.

"Dr. Phillips? He isn't your regular doctor, is he?"

"No, he is one of our new clients. He has an office on the fifth floor of our building. I understand he is new to the area and very good."

"Okay, Pam, whatever you think," Ralph agreed. "I'd better get going. Last time I arrived after the bell the students gave me a hard time about being 'tardy'. If I'm late again, they may expect a note from my wife," Ralph said, chuckling.

"Just tell 'em to contact your attorney," Pam retorted.

Ralph nodded, smiling. He was relieved to see she still had her sense of humor.

After a quick good-bye kiss Ralph watched Pam step out of the car and into her office building.

All he could think about during the drive to Whitney High School was Pam. He hoped she would see a doctor. He should call her, he decided as he pulled into the teacher's parking lot at Whitney High.

Ralph checked his watch as he stepped out of his car. Good, he thought, I have a few minutes still. He headed straight to the front office to check in.

"Good morning Mr. Hinkley," Dora the new receptionist greeted him warmly. "Your ex-wife called this morning and left a message she said, handing him the telephone message.

"Thank you Dora," Ralph answered, studying the information on the phone message.

Noticing that Mr. Kramer had not arrived at his office yet, Ralph quickly stepped into the Vice Principal's office to use the telephone. Dialing the number on the phone message, Ralph turned his back toward the door for added privacy.

"Jeanie? This is Ralph," he said, into the phone. "How's Frank?"

Mr. Kramer stopped dead in his tracks at the threshold of his office.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Jeanie. Yes, please put Alicia on the telephone, I need to speak with her," Ralph added. Ralph rubbed the back of his neck, to ease an ache in his neck.

Mr. Kramer stepped into his office and sat down in a chair in the corner behind Ralph, who was still not aware of his presence.

"Alicia, I got your message. When do you think you'll be back?" he asked.

Mr. Kramer looked at his watch and returned his gaze to Ralph.

"Yes, of course Kevin will be fine with me. I'm not some crazed maniac ya know. I AM his father; it's perfectly normal for him to spend some time with me."

Mr. Kramer cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Ralph froze. Uh-oh, he thought. "Listen Alicia, I gotta go. Just let me know when you will be coming back, okay?" he said, hurriedly. A quick glance behind him confirmed his suspicions; the Vice Principal was seated directly behind him.

Mr. Kramer smiled.

Ralph hung up the phone. "I just had to make a quick phone call, I hope you don't mind. It was sort of an emergency," Ralph nervously explained.

"I understand, Mr. Hinkley," Mr. Kramer said, stepping past Ralph and settling into the chair behind his desk. "Will there be anything else?" he asked.

"Uh, no sir. Thank you Mr. Kramer," Ralph apologized as he dashed for the door and disappeared down the hall.

Ralph arrived to his classroom just as the first bell rang.


	2. Chapters 6 to 10

**Chapter Six**

Bill took the case file from Carlisle and walked silently out of Carlisle's office without regard for Tony.

This is the thanks I get for all my hard work all these years with the Department, he thought.

"Agent Maxwell? We just passed the testing room with the polygraph equipment," Tony commented.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, right, Villicana," Bill said, and kept on walking.

"Hey, Maxwell, where are we going!" Tony demanded.

Bill stopped and turned to face Tony directly. "Listen closely Villicana. I'm in charge. Whatever I say goes. When I say 'jump' your only question should be 'how high? Got it?"

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Listen Maxwell, I can understand that you still see me as the punk kid I was five years ago, but I've changed; grown up. You know, I really wasn't a bad kid, just someone who needed to find his way; once I did, it all made sense," Tony explained.

"Oh yeah, Villicana? Tell me about it," Bill said, doubtfully and folded his arm across his chest.

Tony smiled and placed a hand on Bill's shoulder. "I did some pretty goofy things back in high school. I tried to make my fortune racing for pink slips intending to resell the cars for profit. I became manager for my friends' band **_LA Freeway._** The only reason I was their manager was because I didn't have the musical talent to actually be in the band. Unfortunately, I didn't have managing skills either and ended up quitting the band. The only job that even remotely worked for me was when I worked at night repossessing cars. I was good at it and it paid well, but the operation was shut down when the owner was arrested."

"So, you decided to change sides and join the good guys. I've heard that before," Bill said sarcastically.

"No, hear me out," Tony objected. "It wasn't just that," he explained. "In my senior class at Whitney High, Mr. Hinkley suggested to the class that the way we could make a difference and change the world would be by using our strengths; directing them in a productive way. He pointed out that many criminals would be very effective citizens if they used their talents and abilities for the common good. It made sense. I just didn't know what I should do, that is, until our class took that trip with you to the gold mine. Up close and personal, I saw how well you handled the whole situation with those crooks. It inspired me. I saw something of who you really were; beyond the gruff tough exterior, you had a heart for others. You had a determined dedication and fearlessness that made an impression on me. When I graduated and the school guidance counselor asked where I wanted to go from there, I knew and that's why I'm here."

Bill was impressed. He had touched someone's life, inspired him even. He hadn't thought much about the effect he had on anyone other than those he arrested. He knew those he saved appreciated it, but he always figured it was an appreciation for work done 'in the line of duty' because he never got personally involved with the victims after the cases were closed.

"Okay Villicana, I can relate. I appreciate your honesty and candor. You show promise for a decent FBI agent," Bill answered as he led Tony to his desk in the special agents' office.

**Chapter Seven**

Ralph sat at the luncheon table in the teacher's lounge eating his tuna fish sandwich. Glancing up at the clock on the wall he noticed it was 12:34, about the time Pam usually breaks for lunch. I think I'll give her a call to see how she is feeling, Ralph said to himself. He popped the last bit of tuna fish into his mouth and tossed the brown bag into the trash as he headed for the pay phone on the wall in the corner of the lounge.

The coins jingled loudly as he deposited the money into the slot on the phone. As he dialed the phone number of Pam's direct line he glanced around at the other teachers in the lounge. Two other teachers, Jack Hanson and Irene Johnson, were sitting at a table nearby discussing last night's PTA meeting. Apparently it didn't go well because Irene was complaining about the lack of parental support and involvement when it came to the parents participating in the student activities.

Ralph's attention shifted back to the phone when Pam's secretary picked up.

"I'm sorry Maggie, this is Ralph Hinkley. I am trying to reach Pam. I take it she stepped out to lunch already, huh?" he asked, politely.

"Yes, Mr. Hinkley, shall I have her return the call?" Maggie asked.

"No thanks. Please just let her know I called," Ralph answered, hanging up the phone.

"Ralph," Irene called, "We didn't see you at the PTA meeting last night. Didn't you get the memo?" she asked.

"Um, yes, that's right Irene," Ralph responded feeling guilty, "I was unable to attend. Pam's car broke down and I had to pick her up at the mechanic's. By the time we got home, it was after 10:00. I guess it's time to start looking for a new car," he said, moving closer to where they were seated.

"Well, you weren't the only one who missed the meeting," Irene said, shaking her head. "The number of parents attending our monthly meeting has been dropping steadily for years. It seems that parents are just too busy to be involved in their kid's lives. I think it is a shame that most parents do little more than provide food, clothing and shelter to their kids and leave the rest to us."

"I think you are being a little hard on the parents, Irene. After all, most families today have both parents working, divorce rates are up and there are more single parent homes and broken families than there used to be. More parents working to make ends meet often means no time to be home with the family, much less attend meetings," Ralph explained.

"That doesn't help the kids though does it?" Irene asked.

"Well, no, I suppose it doesn't," Ralph replied, "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't do whatever we can to help the parents out. After all, the parents are entrusting their children to us and every little bit we can do helps."

"Good to hear it, Ralph, not all the teachers feel that way. Shall I put you down for help supervising the freshman's Halloween Costume contest tomorrow night?" Irene asked, adding Ralph's name to the short list of volunteers in front of her.

"Um, sorry Irene, I won't be available tomorrow night. Taking the family to the California Stars World Series game," Ralph explained.

"Hmmm, maybe next time then," Irene grumbled, crossing Ralph's name off the list.

"Sure," Ralph replied, heading out the door of the teacher's lounge.

"Dad! Hey Dad!" Kevin shouted from down the hall as he came running toward Ralph.

"Hey Kev! What's up?" Ralph answered, glad to see his son. "By the way, Happy Birthday, son!" he said, warmly.

"Thanks, Dad," Kevin said, a little out of breath from his sprint down the hall. "That's just what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh yes, Kev. I have your present right here," Ralph said, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "Happy Birthday!"

"Wow! Tickets to tomorrow night's World Series game!" Kevin exclaimed excitedly. "Thanks Dad!"

"I'll hang onto these for safe-keeping," Ralph commented, taking the tickets and slipping them back into his wallet."

"Okay," Kevin agreed. "Listen, Dad, I wanted to talk to you about tonight," Kevin began.

"I know," Ralph interrupted. "I spoke to your mom this morning. It's gonna be great to have you around this week."

"Sure, Dad," Kevin replied, impatiently. "I just wanted to let you know the guys are coming over tonight for a party."

"Oh, Kevin, I don't know if that's such a good idea," Ralph thought aloud. "Pam and I are supposed to go out and…"

"You don't have to be there to baby-sit or anything," Kevin begged. "It's just a few guys and it IS my birthday. We were supposed to have it at Mom's but since she's gone out of town…."

Ralph thought for a moment. "I guess I could cancel the dinner reservations…" he reasoned aloud.

"No, Dad, you don't have to do that. Go out with Pam and we'll be fine. We're just gonna watch TV, hang-out and stuff. Nothing bad's gonna happen, don't you trust me? I **_am_** fifteen now," Kevin pleaded.

"How many guys are we talking here?" Ralph asked, suspiciously.

"Only five of my best behaved friends, Dad. These are guys I've known since I was 7 years old. Okay?"

"Okay, but only because I don't want to cancel this reservation tonight with Pam," Ralph answered.

"Great! Thanks, Dad!" Kevin said, happily. "I'll see ya at home after school."

Ralph nodded, hoping it would be okay with Pam.

**Chapter Eight**

It was nearly noon-time before Pam was truly feeling herself again. Deep down she knew this was no flu and she also knew that there was only one way she could be sure of what was wrong and that was by seeing a doctor.

"I'll be out of the office for a bit, Maggie," Pam told her secretary as she passed her desk.

Maggie nodded and returned to her work.

Pam listened to the soothing instrumental music playing through the elevator's speakers as it slowly descended to the fifth floor.

The doctor's office was conveniently located across the hall from the elevator. Pam imagined that this was a convenience that influenced the doctor to set up his practice at this particular location.

The reception area was immaculately kept and tastefully decorated. Although there was plenty of seating available, no one was seated in the waiting room. Pam suspected this was due to the time of the day; most doctor offices did not receive patients between the hours of noon and one of the work week.

"I'm Pamela Hinkley, here to see Doctor Phillips," she told the receptionist at the front desk.

"Please fill out these papers and have a seat. The nurse will be right with you, Mrs. Hinkley," the receptionist replied.

Pam selected the seat closest to the window to sit in so she could enjoy the warmth of the sunshine streaming in as she filled in her address, phone number, medical history and insurance information. In no time at all she had completed the forms and returned them to the receptionist.

Pam returned to her seat and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the warm sun through the window. Wouldn't it be nice to be lying in a reclining chair at the beach about now? she thought. She couldn't remember the last time she and Ralph had taken a real vacation. That is, one that **_didn't_** **_include_** the red suit, Bill, the FBI, and capturing criminals.

It's not that she minded all those things; rather, it was more that she wanted some time **_without _**them. She felt there was something else that she **_needed. _**Instinctively she knew she'd never pin-point exactly what that was as long as she was occupied with all these other distractions.

"Mrs. Hinkley?" the nurse called, interrupting her thoughts.

Pam got up and followed the nurse into the first examination room on the left, where her weight, pulse and blood pressure were taken.

"The doctor will be with you shortly," the nurse said before exiting the room.

Pam sat silently thinking about what kinds of tests the doctor might order to figure out what was wrong with her.

Just then there was a knock at the door and Dr. Phillips entered the room.

"Mrs. Hinkley! How nice to see you again," Dr. Phillips said greeting Pam warmly.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Phillips," Pam responded.

Dr. Phillips sat down in the chair across from the examination table where Pam was seated. "Please, tell me the reason for your visit," he asked.

"Well, Dr. Phillips, I've been feeling very tired lately and I wake up with an upset stomach. I don't have a fever or any other cold or flu symptoms, but this seems to keep dragging on. My upset stomach could be food-related because the upset often passes later in the day. I can't seem to figure out the connection. Do you think this is a virus or some kind of food allergy?" Pam asked, afraid to admit that she suspected it might be something more.

Dr. Phillips smiled, "How long have you been feeling this way?" he asked.

Pam thought a moment, "About 3 weeks now," she answered.

"Do you ever vomit in the morning?" he asked, making notations on some papers in her file.

"Yes, actually; but not every morning."

"Have you been losing or gaining weight?" he asked, looking up from the papers.

"I hadn't actually gotten on the scale before today. According to that, I gained a few pounds," she answered.

"Mrs. Hinkley, is it possible that you are pregnant?" he asked, putting the folder down and moving closer.

"Well, I suppose it's **_possible_**, but Ralph and I have been married 3 years now and frankly doctor, I thought that it would have happened a long time ago if it were possible. Ralph and I sort of just accepted the fact that it wasn't going to happen for us."

"Would you mind taking a pregnancy test? We can know the results in just a matter of moments," Dr. Phillips said stepping over to the cabinet and retrieving a plastic container for her. "You can use the bathroom right over here," Dr. Phillips said, opening the door to the bathroom adjacent to the examination room. "I'll be back in a few moments," he said before disappearing behind the door.

As Pam slid off the examination table and into the bathroom, she considered what the doctor had said. Can I really be pregnant? she wondered. She smiled at the idea. "Won't Ralph be excited," she said aloud. Somehow, hearing the words out load made it sound more real. The fact was, she wasn't sure how Ralph would feel. They'd have to make some big changes in their lives because she knew she could never leave her child to be raised at a day care; but, could they manage on a single salary? She wasn't so sure.

She placed the plastic container on the counter in the examination room and climbed back onto the examination table. Waiting was murder. She knew she had to accept whatever the results were; but the more she thought about the possibility of her being pregnant, the more she wanted it to be true. She hoped she wasn't setting herself up for a big let down. It HAD to be true; after all it made perfect sense. In fact, come to think of it, she should have **_had_** her period already. She was late. She recalled thinking she was off schedule because of some stressful changes at work, but now that she thought about it, that might not be it at all.

"Mrs. Hinkley?" the nurse asked as she entered the room. "Dr. Phillips asked me to collect your sample to run the pregnancy test."

Pam nodded and pointed to the plastic container on the counter.

"He will be right in with the result," she said as she left the room.

Pam glanced at her watch. 12:34 it read. I'll have just enough time to grab a sandwich downstairs and be back in time for the partners meeting at 1:30, she decided.

**Chapter Nine**

Tony's stomach was beginning to growl. What time is it anyway, he wondered, looking at his watch. It read 12:34. Where did the morning go?

"Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?" Bill interrupted Tony's thoughts. "Ready to grab a burger? I know a great little diner across town.

"You mean the one where you pulled a gun on me?" Tony joked.

"Very funny, Villicana. You'll score some real brownie points with me that way," Bill stated flatly.

"Just kidding, Maxwell, can't you take a joke?"

"How's it coming on those addresses?" Bill asked, ignoring Tony's comment.

"I got a few confirmations, but some of the vandalism complaints are so old the people have moved away, died, or plain just don't want to be bothered. Why are we checking things like 'bent antennas' anyway?"

"Because it's on the list and if it's on the list, we check it. We go by the book. Period," Bill answered.

"But, 'bent antennas'? And this one, 'clothes line torn down'! Now there's a case for the FBI to crack! Let's bring that felon down! Get the SWAT team!" Tony exclaimed, sarcastically.

"Okay, Villicana, that's enough. I don't like this any more than you do," Bill ordered.

"Well, the contact at the Palmdale Hotel for a broken window is there. We can question him on the way to the diner, if you want," Tony suggested.

"Broken window, I wonder what is so special about a broken window," Bill commented.

"Let's find out," Tony said getting out of his chair.

"What else do you have?" Bill asked.

"There are three other locations in and near Palmdale," Tony replied, looking at his notes.

"Palmdale," Bill shuddered.

**Chapter Ten**

Kevin plopped down in the grassy area outside the school's lunch room joining five of his buddies.

"Hi guys, I just spoke to my dad and he says everything is cool. We're still on for tonight."

"Seven o'clock, right?" asked a boy named John with shoulder-length wavy blonde hair.

"I bought a new VHS movie we can watch. It's called, "**_It Came From Below_**," suggested Jim, John's twin brother.

"Kevin doesn't want to watch a **_Halloween_** movie on his birthday, Kingsman!" said a tall red haired boy named Joel.

"That's okay, I'm always up for a good chiller! I heard that one's a really good one," Kevin said, coming to the boy's defense.

"It won't matter anyway, Kevin's parents will never let us watch it!" complained Scott, a blonde-haired boy who resembled Kevin.

"That's not gonna be a problem, Pam and my dad are going out tonight. We'll have the place to our selves," Kevin answered.

Just then the school bell rang.

"Come on, guys! We're gonna be late for class!" Kevin called, as he scrambled to his feet.

"What's the rush?" Scott asked, "It's only Mrs. Johnson's Literature class. "Ugh! That class is soooo boring!"

"Yeah, you know it," agreed Joel, "How in the world do you keep your eyes open, Kevin?"

"Are you kidding? Kevin isn't in a rush for Literature, he's got his eyes on Tracy Thompson in the front row!" teased Jim, with a smirk on his face.

Kevin didn't say anything. He knew better than to deny or admit anything with these guys. He'd never hear the end of it. But he had to admit, Tracy did add a little something to the enjoyment of the class.


	3. Chapters 11 to 15

**Chapter Eleven**

Bill pulled his newly issued car into the parking lot of the Palmdale Hotel, glancing nervously toward the sky. I'm glad this is the last stop, this town gives me the creeps, he thought. He always felt like he was tempting fate or rather attracting the attention of 'the little green guys' just by driving into this town.

"Listen Villicana, I'll do the talking here; you just take notes. Got it?" Bill ordered. Villicana was a good kid, but he needed to do less talking and more listening, Bill thought.

Tony remained silent so Bill assumed he got the message.

Bringing an inexperienced agent into this town was very unsettling. Bill had every intention of high-tailing it out of here as soon as they were finished, if not sooner.

"The contact's name is Johnny Trombone, the office manager," Tony told Bill, feeling the need to contribute something to the investigation. "It says here, he reported a broken window."

Bill nodded, "Let's go, kid."

The 7 story hotel was an attractive piece of architecture, nicely landscaped and adorned with exotic trees and flowering plants, creating a restful park-like atmosphere. The parking lot was fairly empty, except for a handful of cars dotting the lot.

They walked past a small waterfall fountain in the lobby to the manager's office. A tall, dark-haired man in an expensive-looking suit rose from his seat and approached Bill and Tony.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen, I'm Johnny Trombone, the hotel's manager. How may I be of service to you?" he asked in a kind and gentle manner.

Bill flashed his FBI badge, "I'm Special Agent Bill Maxwell and this is Agent Tony Villicana. We're with the FBI following up on a complaint you filed last year. We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

Johnny stepped aside and indicated that they should proceed into his office. He followed behind them and closed the door.

Bill wasted no time, "What can you tell me about the circumstances of your complaint, Mr. Trombone."

"Well, let me see," Johnny said, opening his file cabinet and retrieving a file folder marked 'Insurance Claims'. "It should be in here," he explained, laying the file on his desk and opening it.

Bill leaned forward to get a good look at the papers in the folder.

"Ah, here it is, right on top," Johnny said. "Oh yes, I remember this one. It was a broken window … Room 714. That's the 7th floor at the South side of the hotel."

"So, you think it was vandalism. Some kids in the neighborhood tossing rocks at windows?" Bill asked.

"No, this was definitely not damage from rocks," Johnny replied, hesitantly.

"How can you be so sure?" Tony asked.

"Well, for starters, we have two eye-witnesses," Johnny replied, handing Bill a sheet of paper he removed from the folder. "This is the statement they gave us for the police."

Bill took a look at the paper. His blood nearly ran cold as the words 'flying man' and 'red suit with black cape' jumped off the paper at him. It couldn't possibly be Ralph, could it? he wondered.

Tony read the neatly written words from the paper aloud "We were relaxing in the bedroom when a flying man wearing a red suit with black cape came crashing through the hotel room's window. He crashed in through the window and walked out the door. He was about 5'11 with blonde curly hair, average build. He was dressed like Superman."

Bill swallowed hard. "This sounds kinda crazy don't you think?" he asked Johnny.

"I thought so too. It didn't help with our filing the insurance claim. They refused to honor the testimony of 'inebriated' persons. Eventually they did pay the claim though," Johnny answered. "I thought the case was closed, why are you following it up now?" Johnny inquired.

"Inebriated?" Bill asked, ignoring the latter question.

"All I know is that the couple was on their honeymoon. They had just left their wedding reception in our banquet hall where several of their guests were … lets say 'filled with the spirits'. I can't say how snookered they were and what really happened, but a 'flying man in a red suit' crashing into your hotel room through the window is about as close to seeing 'pink elephants' and 'green men' as you get, don't you think?"

"How do you think the window was broken?" Tony asked.

"Let's say that these young enthusiastic newlyweds can get a bit too wild in their games. I see hotel room damage from time to time; broken chair legs, collapsed bed canopies and the like. I think this is a case of a drunken couple not accepting responsibility for their carelessness. The only reason this report was filed is because the groom happened to be the Police Chief's eldest son. In respect for the Chief, we deferred to his wishes and filed the complaint as 'vandalism'."

"I think we're through here, Tony. Thank you for your time, Mr. Trombone," Bill said, nodding his head.

"This is a total and complete waste of time," Bill groused.

"I don't know Maxwell, there seems to be a common thread to these cases," Tony argued.

"I hope you don't mean the flying superman in the red suit, Villicana!" Bill answered, sardonically.

"Seriously, we've investigated four separate cases and in each of the four instances there is testimony of someone in red causing damage and running off," Tony explained. "That can't be coincidence."

"Listen to yourself, Villicana, are you honestly telling me you believe in Superman? I suppose you believe in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy also? This is what I get for working with a 'boot'."

"A 'boot'." Tony repeated.

"Yes, a 'boot'! A 'boot' is a soldier just out of boot camp, inexperienced, untested," Bill explained.

Tony remained silent.

"Think about it, with all the people who see pink elephants, do you really think there are any? These cases are lumped together because they appear to have certain similarities, but as an experienced agent with 98 success rate, I can tell you that it doesn't work that way. You gotta know when to recognize a boondoggle when you see one."

"Boondoggle?" Tony asked, looking puzzled.

"Boondoggle refers to any military operation that hasn't been completely thought out; an operation that is absurd or useless," Bill replied. "Don't they teach **_anything_** at the Academy anymore?"

"Not Greek!" Tony shot back.

"Greek? I'll have you know that these words are commonly used Military terms, Villicana," Bill replied.

"Okay Chief. What's the term for burger?" Tony asked, teasing.

"Chop chop," Bill answered.

"Is that for a double burger?" Tony asked, joking.

"Very funny; you have to always play the comedian, don't ya, Villicana?"

**Chapter Twelve**

Ralph arrived home from school to see Kevin spread out comfortably on the couch, talking on the phone.

"Hi Kev," Ralph called to Kevin as he walked in the door. "Wanna hang up that phone and give me a hand?" Ralph asked, indicating the over-flowing grocery bags he was carrying.

"Uh, I gotta go, my dad's home," Kevin said into the phone before hanging up.

"There are two more bags in the car," Ralph commented, removing bottles of soda from one of the shopping bags.

Kevin disappeared out the front door to retrieve the rest of the groceries.

"Hi Hon," Pam said, greeting Ralph with a smile and a quick kiss.

"Hi Pam, I see you got your car back from the mechanic. That was quick," Ralph answered.

"Yes, they are very anxious to please," Pam said, wrapping her arms around Ralph and snuggling her face into his neck.

"It is wise to keep the paying client happy; especially if she is a beautiful attorney with lots of return business," Ralph answered, dropping the bag of chips he was holding onto the counter and pulling her closer.

"Ah-hem," Kevin coughed, making his presence known. "I think I'll go hang out in my room for a while," Kevin said, excusing himself.

"Smart boy," Ralph whispered into Pam's ear.

"Takes after his father," Pam murmured back, as they locked into a deep kiss.

Just then the phone rang, interrupting their private moment.

"Hello?" Ralph said into the phone.

Pam slipped from his grasp and began emptying the grocery bags, while Ralph chatted on the phone.

"Yes, I'm sure next week would be a much more convenient time for the parents as well. Thanks for call, Irene," Ralph said, before hanging up.

"What did she want?" Pam asked, curiously.

"She is calling parents to let them know that the Freshman's Halloween Costume Contest tomorrow night has been postponed until next Saturday," Ralph explained.

"Why is it being postponed?"

"Apparently there aren't enough adult volunteers to help supervise the activity. Everyone is going to the big game tomorrow night. The committee feels that there would be a better turn out next week. That is probably true. I think there will be more parents available to help."

"What time are we scheduled to go next week?" Pam asked, knowingly.

"They want us there at 5:00 pm to help set up," Ralph smiled. "You know me so well, don't you?" he asked, taking her in his arms again.

"There is one thing I don't know," Pam said, smiling, "And that it why Kevin is here?"

"Oh, Pam, I'm so sorry! I meant to call you. I DID really, but I got caught in Vice Principal Kramer's office and …"

"Ralph, you're rambling again," Pam said sweetly.

"It's just that I got this message from Alicia this morning and it seems that Frank is in the hospital; he may not make it through the night."

"That's awful!" Pam exclaimed, "Jeanie must be beside herself!"

"Yes, I imagine she is. They've been expecting this for some time, but when it actually happens, well, it's still rough. Alicia is with her now and is going to stay there to help out. I'm not sure when she'll be back, but it looks like at least a week, maybe two. Is that okay with you?"

"Listen Ralph, anytime Kevin wants to stay with us it's perfectly okay. I consider it his home too. You know, Ralph, I think having kids around makes a house a home. Don't you think?"

"I'm so glad you feel that way because there is something else I haven't had a chance to tell you yet."

"What's that?" Pam asked, curiously.

"I told Kevin he could have a few of his friends over tonight while we're out. You know, he was supposed to have his friends over Alicia's tonight for his birthday," Ralph explained.

"I don't know Ralph, do you think that is a good idea? It's one thing leaving a fourteen year old boy alone in the house for an hour or so, but a gang of them?"

"Oh no, it is only going to be him with 5 other kids, and he IS fifteen now," Ralph added. Did he **_really_** say that! Now he was beginning to sound like Kevin!

"Well, I suppose it would be okay then, if **_you_** think so. He is a responsible young man and I do trust your judgment Ralph," Pam answered.

"Hey, what's the plan for dinner?" Kevin shouted from his room. "Any chance for some pizza?"

Pam and Ralph looked at each other laughing.

"I'll have some pizzas delivered for him. I'm sure his friends can help him finish them off," Pam suggested, picking up the telephone.

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Okay, Kevin, we should be back around 10:00 tonight. If you need us you can reach us at Bernoulli's Bistro; the number is on the fridge. Mrs. Jensen is home next door if you need her…" Ralph instructed.

"Ok-ok, Dad! This is embarrassing!" Kevin responded, gritting his teeth. Why does he have to do this in front of the guys! "Don't worry. Everything will be fine. Go already!" he urged.

"Come on, Ralph. They won't hold the reservations forever," Pam added, with a wink to Kevin.

"Thanks, Pam," Kevin said, as he closed and locked the door behind them.

"Hey Kev, want me to put the movie in now?" Jim suggested.

"Sure! I'll be right in, I'm gonna get another bottle of soda from the fridge," Kevin answered.

Kevin disappeared into the kitchen.

"Nice going Kingsman!" Kevin heard one of his friends say.

"What's going on?" Kevin asked, returning to the living room carrying a bottle of root beer.

His friends were huddled around the VCR.

"Stop hassling me!" Jim said, angrily shoving Joel aside.

"Don't push me!" Joel shoved back.

"Hey guys, cut it out!" Kevin warned. "What's the problem?" he asked, putting the soda down and moving closer.

"Kingsman busted your VCR!" Joel complained.

"Did not!" Jim said, defensively. "It's just a little stuck. All I need is something to give it a push."

"Let me see," Kevin said. He pushed the eject button, trying to pop the tape out, without success. He pushed his finger in the opening trying to force the tape in further, but it refused to move.

"I think it's in crooked," Scott suggested. "We need something thin to slide along the side so it will go back on track. Got a letter opener or ruler or something? he asked, looking around the room.

"There's your dad's brief case," Joel suggested, "He's gotta have a ruler or something in there! Throw it here, John!"

"Uh, my dad doesn't like me going through his things," Kevin objected.

"What are you talking about? We're just looking for a ruler," Joel argued, ignoring Kevin and unzipping the brief case.

"Give me that!" Kevin insisted, snatching the brief case of out Joel's hand.

Joel grabbed it back and tossed it to Scott, "Here catch!" he shouted.

"Come on guys, quit fooling around!" Kevin ordered.

"What… is… this?" Scott said, staring at the piece of red fabric hanging out of Ralph's brief case.

Joel reached over and pulled. All six boys stared at the red superhero suit that spilled out onto the floor.

"Cool!" Scott exclaimed, picking up the suit and showing the others. "What a radical costume!"

"Look! There's shoes and a cape too!" Joel said, removing them from the brief case. "Your dad must have picked them up for you to wear at the contest tomorrow night!"

"No way. I'm not even going; we're going to the baseball game tomorrow!" Kevin answered.

"I heard the contest was postponed until next week, Kev," Jim argued.

"Yeah, Mrs. Johnson called our mom this afternoon about it. Something about not enough parental help because of the base ball game this weekend," John added.

Scott rolled his eyes, "Yeah, my dad says Mrs. Johnson calls every month asking him to attend the PTA meetings. He isn't too happy about it because he works late."

"Why don't you try it on?" Joel suggested.

"I don't know…" Kevin said doubtfully. "I think I should wait for my dad to give it to me."

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Good evening, welcome to Bernoulli's Bistro. Is this your first visit with us?" a short, dark-haired, Italian looking gentleman asked.

"Yes, it is," Ralph answered, politely. "I have dinner reservations for two under the name Hinkley."

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Joseph Bernoulli, the owner of this fine restaurant. I am honored to have you both dining here this evening," he said, searching the reservation list for Ralph's name.

"Ah, here it is. Would you prefer a table by the fireside or one on the patio by the lake?" he asked.

"Oh, Ralph, I'd love to sit on the patio," Pam suggested.

"Very well, a lovely night to dine by the stars," Mr. Bernoulli answered, leading them to a private table at the far end of the patio.

"Allow me," he said, holding Pam's chair for her.

"Thank you, Mr. Bernoulli," Pam said, appreciatively. "What a lovely restaurant."

"Thank you for the compliment, ma'am. You are very kind. Would you care for a glass of wine before dinner? We have an excellent red dinner wine I would highly recommend," he offered.

"I'd prefer something non-alcoholic, if you don't mind," Pam replied.

Ralph looked surprised. "You love red wine, Pam."

"I'd like a diet soda, please," Pam responded, smiling sweetly.

"I'll have a regular soda, please," Ralph ordered.

"Very well," Mr. Bernoulli answered before departing.

"Oh, Ralph, this is so romantic!" she whispered.

Pam leaned back in her chair and sighed. This place is perfect, she thought to herself. I couldn't have picked a better place to give Ralph the good news.

Ralph seemed relaxed, Pam noted. He looked around smiling and returned his attention to her.

"You look especially lovely tonight, Pam," Ralph said reaching across the table and taking hold of her hands. "You've been so wonderful about everything all this time. I mean with Kevin, the suit and the school. I know it must seem like you take the back seat to other people in my life, but I want you to know that that isn't how I feel. I love you so much Pam. Thank you so much for putting up with me and the crazy stuff that comes with me."

Ralph leaned forward and gently kissed her on the lips.

Mr. Bernoulli showed up with the drinks as they pulled apart.

"Excuse me," he said, placing the sodas on the table in front of them.

"Thank you," they both said in unison.

"I'll leave these with you to look over," Mr. Bernoulli said, handing them the restaurant menus.

"Thank you, Mr. Bernoulli," Ralph repeated.

Pam sighed. It was relaxing here, away from it all. This would be the perfect time to tell him, she thought.

"Ralph, now that we're alone, there is something I'd like to speak with you about," Pam began.

"What is it Pam?" Ralph asked, smiling contentedly. He reached for his soda and took a sip.

"There you are!" interrupted Bill, rushing hastily toward Ralph and Pam.

Pam and Ralph watched Bill grab an empty chair from another table and drag it over to their table.

"Bill, what are you doing here?" Ralph asked, annoyed.

"Sorry to intrude on your private evening, but we've got big trouble Ralph," Bill continued, ignoring the nasty looks he was getting.

"The key word is 'private' Bill. This is supposed to be a private dinner for two. Get it?" Ralph repeated.

"Ralph, you're not listening…" Bill insisted.

"No, Bill, YOU are not listening. There can't possibly be anything that important that can't wait until tomorrow morning Bill," Ralph argued.

"Ralph, my meeting with Carlisle was a bust! Not only didn't he promote me, but he assigned me a new 'boot' to train," Bill complained.

"Bill." Ralph said flatly.

"Ralph, the kid is Villicana!" Bill insisted.

"Tony Villicana? That's great Bill! Did you hear that Pam? Tony Villicana made the FBI? I knew he'd make something of himself some day," Ralph said excitedly.

"No, it isn't 'great' Ralph!" Bill argued.

Pam sat there silently, knowing anything she said would only prolong Bill's interruption.

"Excuse me, will your guest be joining you?" Mr. Bernoulli asked, having showed up again.

"NO!" Ralph and Pam shouted in unison.

Bill looked surprised.

"Would you like a few more minutes?" Mr. Bernoulli inquired.

"Yes, please," Bill answered, annoyed at Mr. Bernoulli's interruption.

Mr. Bernoulli shot Bill nasty looks as he left their table.

"Carlisle assigned us to a case, Ralph. The case is a composite of 'vandalism' incidents," Bill explained.

"Sounds good to me, Bill. I think it's the perfect kind of thing to get a new agent's feet wet, don't you? Honestly Bill, not everything has to be about espionage!" Ralph argued.

"Ralph, you're not listening," Bill stated flatly.

"Why do you always say that!" Ralph fumed.

"Because it's true Ralph. Now just shut up and listen," Bill insisted.

"There's no need to be rude, Bill," Ralph shot back.

"Counselor?" Bill looked Pam's way for support.

"Bill, would you please get to the point? Maybe Ralph would listen if you didn't drag things out so much?" Pam replied, wishing Bill would just go away already.

Bill took a deep breath. "Listen, both of you. The case that Carlisle assigned us is a vandalism case. Specifically vandalism incidents that Carlisle thinks are related. Vandalism being caused by one lone offender. The descriptions that are coming up in each of these cases are include a 'flying man dressed in a red suit'! Need I be any clearer?"

"Oh my gosh, Bill," Ralph exclaimed.

"What kind of 'vandalism' are we talking here, Bill?" Pam asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Broken windows, bent antennas, downed clothes lines, busted roofs, crashed walls, and so on and so forth," Bill answered evenly. "Sound familiar, Ralph?" he asked.

"I didn't mean to do those things. My flying hasn't been quite right since I started; you know that Bill," Ralph answered.

"I know that and you know that, but apparently the police don't care and the FBI is now investigating this rash of vandalism that continues to occur," Bill responded.

"What are we going to do, Bill? I can't very well come forward and explain," Ralph reasoned.

"Listen, I'm trying to get the case thrown out. I think I've convinced Villicana that these incidents are not related. I explained to him that they're just bogus reports by a bunch of drunk, wacky, deluded people looking for attention or to send the department on a wild goose chase."

"Okay Bill, that sounds good. Keep me posted. Now will you get out of here?" Ralph insisted.

"Sure, Ralph," Bill answered snatching a bread stick from the basket on their table and biting into it. "You know, this isn't half bad," he added.

"Anything is better than those dog treats you've been eating!" Pam replied.

**Chapter Fifteen**

"You still here, Villicana? You don't have to burn the mid-night oil on the first day, ya know," Agent Roth said, from across the room.

"Ha! Thanks Roth. Just checking a few loose ends here, then I'll be heading out. I just don't like leaving things hanging over the weekend," Tony answered back.

"It'll be there on Monday," Roth shot back, "Why don't you give it a rest and begin fresh on Monday?" he suggested.

"I suppose your right," Tony agreed. "I'm just gonna put these files away before I head out. You go ahead, okay? Have a great weekend!" he called.

"You too! Nice to have you aboard!" Roth responded before disappearing behind the closed door.

"Hmm, here's an earlier incident from before Carlisle was in charge. He reports that a man dressed in a red, super-hero suit with black cape burst into the department demanding a case file. Carlisle shot the man and **_the bullet bounced off the offender's chest_**. Carlisle was treated for stress and given time-off." It nearly cost him his job, Tony realized. Something happened, but what?

There are too many instances of this man in the red suit. Some of these descriptions are so detailed and so similar that they cannot be imagined, Tony reasoned. Carlisle's description is one of the most detailed, 'the man had blonde curly hair, blue eyes, light complexion, his height was about 5'11, non-threatening…'

Why would a man break into the FBI to steal a file? Why go to all the trouble to wear a costume that would so obviously stand out? Wouldn't it be more reasonable to sneak into the building blending in, without causing any damage or attention to himself?

Perhaps, the criminal meant to stand out so as to appear so absurd that no one would believe the report of his crime? And perhaps the damage was intentional or even the motive for the break-in? It certainly would make the FBI look ridiculous to have a costumed amateur break into their offices, cause damage and steal a confidential file.

Yes, Tony suspected he was onto something and he wasn't about to give up. He was going to prove to Maxwell that he wasn't such a green recruit after all.


	4. Chapters 16 to 20

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Kev, you're a sure winner in this costume," Scott declared, "Look at the emblem; I wonder what it is supposed to stand for?"

"You dummy!" Joel answered, laughing. "It's not supposed to mean **_anything_**! They just put any old thing on there! It's supposed to be like superman's 'S'. Ever notice everyone thinks his 'S' stands for 'superman', but in reality it is really some kryptonian insignia which probably means something like 'police chief'."

"Superman is a 'police chief'?" Kevin asked, "I don't think so, not with the cape! The police chief stays at the police station while the officers patrol the city."

"I don't think it's that way for the American Indians," Jim interrupted, "I believe the Indian Chief is the one who led their tribe into battle, no?"

"Who stays home and protects the squaws?" his brother, John asked.

"Probably the guys too old to go into battle," Jim suggested.

"If they're not good enough for battle, how can they protect the squaws?" John argued.

"Maybe the sons do," Jim replied.

"No, the sons go into battle when they can fight," said John shaking his head.

"Okay, the squaws don't need protecting then, they are moving camp to a safer place," Jim suggested.

"I don't think so, Jim," John laughed.

"Okay, I give up. Who protects them then," Jim asked.

"I don't have the slightest idea," John responded, laughing harder.

Jim slugged John in the arm.

"You never hear much about that in class, do ya?" Joel answered.

"Never mind that," Scott said, "You gonna wear this for the contest, Kev?"

"I don't know. I guess so, I'm still not even sure the suit is for me," Kevin replied, wondering why his father would buy a costume without asking what he might want to wear.

"You don't think he bought it to wear himself do you?" Joel joked. "How lame! Kevin's dad walking around the school dressed like some alien Superman!"

"Of course not!" Kevin argued. "My dad wouldn't do anything that crazy!" At least he hoped he wouldn't. Would he? Kevin would just die if his dad did that to him at the contest. He was sure none of the other parents or teachers would come to the contest dressed up.

"Kev, just try the suit on, let's see how it looks. If you look dopy, we'll tell you and you'll have enough time to scrounge up another costume," Joel suggested.

Joel HAD a point. If this was a decent costume then he could wear it to the contest. Maybe he'd even win with it. That would make his dad and Pam happy, and it certainly would make him happy to win the prize. On the other hand, if it didn't look right, well, maybe it would be better to get an honest answer from the guys first.

"Okay, I suppose you're right," Kevin said, taking the suit and stepping into his room to get changed.

The suit had an elastic quality; it fit him snugly and appeared to be made just for him. It was rather comfortable as clothes go, light weight and silky to the touch. The cape fastened easily and gave a more modest covering, he thought. As he slipped the shoes on, he wondered if this was such a good idea after all, but he supposed since he had gone this far, he might as well finish. Kevin took a quick glance in the mirror, trying to decide if the costume looked realistic enough for him to be taken seriously. Though he had not come up with any particular costume ideas, he probably would have chosen something more like a Musketeer, Warrior or someone brandishing a large threatening weapon. A man in tights, who flies, wasn't exactly his first choice, but at least his dad **_tried_** and maybe, just maybe, it could win the contest.

Kevin stepped out into the living room, expressionless. He didn't say a word as he walked across the room with his cape swaying gently behind him.

"Wow! That looks great!" Scott said, obviously impressed. "If you don't want it, can I borrow it?"

"You really think it looks decent?" Kevin asked, not sure if the guys were serious or not.

"I think it looks like the real deal. I mean the cape is like 'count Dracula' and way cool!" Jim answered enthusiastically.

"I wonder if it glows in the dark," John asked, touching Kevin's arm lightly.

"Let's turn out the lights and see!" Joel laughed, flicking off the lights.

Kevin and his friends were surprised to see that the suit had a slight glow to it.

"Is it warm?" Joel asked, "I mean, if you have to wear a coat over it, you'll lose the whole effect."

"It seems fine in here," Kevin replied.

"Let's go outside and see," Joel suggested. "Come on guys," he said as he led the way out the front door.

Kevin's friends followed Joel out to the front lawn, while Kevin remained in the house.

"Come on Kev!" they called. "It's getting cold out here!" Joel said, as he returned inside the house and gently pushed Kevin out the door in front of him.

"Wait!" Kevin called, as the front door slammed shut behind them.

"You didn't by any chance unlock the door, did you?" Kevin asked his friend Joel.

Joel turned around and jiggled the doorknob. "Uh…. Guess not," he said looking embarrassed.

"Well, how are we going to get back in?" Kevin asked, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"You're the superhero!" Jim teased, "Can't you bust the door down?"

Everyone, but Kevin burst out laughing.

"Don't you have an extra key lying around somewhere?" John asked.

"You mean one of those 'hide-a-key' things?" Kevin asked.

"Yes! That's it!" John nodded.

"Nope. Never had a problem like this before," Kevin answered.

"Why don't you call your dad," Scott asked.

"How do you suggest I do that," Kevin responded, "The phone is inside."

"Well, we could call from the pay phone at the 7-11 on the next block," Scott suggested.

"Can you guys call my dad at Bernoulli's for me?" he asked.

Jim laughed, "He just doesn't want to pass Tracy Thompson's house on the way. She might see her superhero outside."

"Yeah, Tracy would like that!" Joel teased, "I wonder if you should call from her house instead!"

"Come on, guys!" Kevin said, annoyed.

"Never mind, I'll go and call your dad," Scott offered. "Who wants to go with me?" he asked.

"I'll go," Joel offered.

As Joel and Scott walked off down the road, Kevin thought it might be best to look for another way in. He really didn't want to be standing out there on the front lawn in a bright red superhero suit.

**Chapter Seventeen**

Mrs. Jensen peered out her kitchen window. She thought she heard some strange sounds coming from the Hinkley's home next door. With her kitchen light on, she had a difficult time seeing clearly out the window, so she decided to turn her kitchen light off.

"That's much better," she said, peering out again. The Hinkley's front porch light only illuminated the front area of their home, so the view of the side area of the property was only fairly well lit. Straining her eyes, she tried to make out the four shadowy figures outside the garage. They appeared to be carrying a trash can to the back area of the house. She watched as they placed the can directly below a bathroom window.

"Uh-oh, I'd better call the police," she thought, dialing the telephone on the wall nearby.

"Hello, Police?" she said, keeping her eyes out the window. She saw two of the shadowy figures come around the front again, trying to open a window on the side of the house facing her home.

"I'd like to report what appears to be a robbery in progress," she said, nervously. "Please hurry," she said, after giving her phone number, and the Hinkley's address.

"I'd better warn the Hinkley's," she thought as she dialed the number next door.

The phone rang and rang and rang until an answering machine picked up, "Hello, this is the Hinkley residence, please leave a message after the beep,"

"Pam and Ralph? I guess your not home, this is Mabel Jensen from next door. I think some felons are trying to break into your house so I called the police."

**Chapter Eighteen**

"The bathroom window looks like it's open," Kevin said, climbing on top of the garbage can they carried from the front.

"Good. Can you get close enough to climb in?" John asked.

"Hold it still! It's wobbling," Kevin yelled.

Jim and John held the garbage can steady while their other friend, Peter went out front to watch for Kevin's dad.

"It IS open, but I'll never fit in through this window!" Kevin complained, stepping down.

"This isn't working," Jim complained. "Any other bright ideas?" he asked.

"I've got one," came a voice from behind the bright light that shined on their faces.

**Chapter Nineteen**

"Now that Bill's gone, maybe we can continue where we left off," Pam said, leaning closer to Ralph.

"Mind if I give Kev a call?" Ralph asked, looking uneasy.

Pam sighed, "Go ahead. I know it will make you feel better," she replied. She knew he would be distracted throughout the whole meal if he didn't call home at least once. Better to get it over with and then they can have some time to themselves.

She looked over the menu trying to decide if she felt like eating an Italian pasta meal or if she preferred to go with a nice Caesar salad.

Ralph returned looking upset. "Pam, there's no answer at home."

Pam looked up, surprised, "What do you mean there's no answer? Are you sure you didn't misdial?"

"Yes, Pam, I got our answering machine!" Ralph answered. "I think something's wrong. I can feel it."

"Oh, Ralph, you're just worrying over nothing. I'm sure it's something silly like they have the TV on too loud, or …" Pam wasn't even convincing herself. She knew Kevin didn't go for loud anything, at least not loud enough to drown out the telephone."

"Do you think I should call Mrs. Jensen and have her look in on Kevin?" Ralph asked.

Pam knew that wasn't good enough. "Do you have the suit with you?" she asked.

"No Pam. This was supposed to be our night off," Ralph explained.

"Excuse me, Mr. Hinkley." Mr. Bernoulli had returned again. "You have a telephone call. You can take it out front."

"Thank you, Mr. Bernoulli," Ralph answered, rising from his seat.

Pam followed Ralph to the telephone.

"Hello?" Ralph said into the telephone.

"Mr. Hinkley, this is Scott, Kevin's friend," Scott said.

"What is it, Scott?" Ralph asked, firmly.

"Uh, Kevin asked me to call you because we're all locked out of the house," Scott replied.

"Is everyone alright?" Ralph asked.

"Yes, we're okay."

"Okay, sit tight and I'll be there in a few minutes," Ralph said.

"What is it?" Pam asked, wondering if there was anything else that could go wrong this evening.

"They're all fine, but the kids are locked out of the house. That's all I know."

**Chapter Twenty**

The beam from the flashlight shifted from John to Jim to Kevin, "What's going on here?" the voice behind the light demanded.

Kevin moved closer to see who was addressing them.

"Hold it right there, superboy!" the voice warned.

"Who are you?" Kevin asked.

"I am Police Officer Parody, who are you and what's going on here?"

"I'm Kevin Hinkley, this is my house and these are my friends. We got locked out of the house and we're trying to get back in," Kevin explained.

"I want you all to follow me, please," the officer said, keeping his flashlight focused on the small group.

As they reached the front lawn Scott and Joel joined the group.

"Are you part of this group?" the officer asked them.

"We didn't do anything wrong, officer," Scott answered, nervously.

"Let's have your names, addresses and phone numbers first," Officer Parody ordered.

A second officer came around from the other side of the house. "This appears to be all of them," he said. "I didn't see any damage, but there was a trash can placed below a bathroom window. It appears they were trying to break into this home," he announced.

"Thank you, Officer Grady," Officer Parody replied. "May I see your identification?" he asked, turning his attention back to the group.

Everyone but Kevin produced a student photo school I.D. The officer verified their names and addresses from the I.D.'s.

"Now son, what are we going to do with you?" Officer Parody said, shining the light on Kevin. What is this outfit all about? Some prank or something?" he asked, sarcastically. "Maybe I should bring you down to the station and have a chat with your parents."

"That won't be necessary, Officer," Ralph interjected. "I'm the boys' father. What is all this about?" he asked.

Kevin noticed the surprised look on his father's face when he saw Kevin's outfit. He wondered how this birthday could get any worse.


	5. Chapters 21 to 25

**Chapter Twenty-One**

The officers followed Ralph, Pam, Kevin and his friends into the house.

"Why don't you take your friends into your room, while I have a chat with the officers," Ralph instructed.

Ralph couldn't believe his eyes. Kevin in the suit! How did he get his hands on it? How could something like this possibly happen? And what was he going to tell the officers?

"Please have a seat, gentlemen," Pam said, clearing the pizza boxes and chips off the coffee table.

Ralph picked up the empty cups and bottle of soda the boys had left in the living room. "Be right with you," he said, excusing himself.

"Ralph, I know what you're thinking. Don't say anything until you get the story from the police officers. Find out what they know first. You can talk to Kevin after," Pam warned.

Ralph nodded.

"So, what is this all about officers?" Ralph asked, after he and Pam returned to the living room.

"We're responding to a call from your neighbor, Mrs. Jensen," Officer Parody explained, referring to his notes. "It says here, she observed four prowlers lurking about your property, peeping in windows and attempting to gain entry into your home."

The officer glanced up from his notes before continuing. "When we arrived on the scene, we met one Peter Scanlon standing on the front lawn of the property in question. He stated that he and 5 of his friends were mistakenly locked out of the house. He also stated that 2 of their friends had gone down to the convenience store to call for help."

"Officer Grady searched the area for property damage and signs of forced entry. He reported that there was no damage, however his search revealed evidence of a failed attempt to gain entry through a bathroom window," Officer Parody concluded.

"We haven't obtained any statements from the boys yet, and would appreciate you're allowing us to speak individually to each of the boys," Officer Parody requested.

"I'm sorry officer, I fail to see the necessity of interrogating the boys as there has been no crime committed here," Ralph replied, trying to remain calm and maintain a respectful tone.

"Fine," Officer Parody said, noting Ralph's objection in the file. "We can always follow up at a later date should it become necessary," he added.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Pam replied, moving closer to Ralph.

"Thank you for your time," Officer Grady said, as the two officers left.

Ralph and Pam watched through the window as both officers approached Mrs. Jensen's home.

"Don't worry, Ralph, they're just going to have her sign a statement of complaint to confirm that they followed up on her phone call," Pam said.

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

"What do you think is going on out there?" Kevin wondered, aloud.

"They're just talking and filling out a report," Joel answered.

"We didn't do anything wrong," Jim added.

"Did you see the way those policemen looked at me?" Kevin asked, "Superboy, he called me! Ugh! I feel like such a fool."

"Oh, I don't know, Kev. I think the outfit is really cool," Scott replied. "The officer was just being a jerk."

"I don't know." Kevin shook his head in disgust. "I guess I'm just not the superhero type. I can't wait to get out of this getup," he complained.

"Does that mean you're not going to wear this to the contest?" Scott asked.

"I don't even know if I'll be allowed to go to the contest after this. My dad didn't look too happy about all this," Kevin answered, dejectedly.

"Hey, if you're not going to wear it, then can I borrow it?" Scott begged.

"At this point, I don't care if I never see this suit again," Kevin answered.

"Can I see you a minute, Kevin?" Ralph asked, as he opened the door to Kevin's room.

"I'll be right back," Kevin said, to his friends as he approached his dad.

Kevin followed Ralph into the living room. He was glad that Pam made herself scarce. This was going to be difficult enough without the both of them giving him a hard time.

"Kevin, what happened tonight?" Ralph asked.

"Well, Dad," Kevin sighed. He REALLY didn't want to rehash it all. Why couldn't he just wake up now and have it all be a bad dream? "The guys brought this movie for us to watch and it got stuck in the VCR. We were looking for a ruler or something to try to get the tape out, and one of the guys thought you'd have something in your brief case that we could use and that's when we found the Halloween costume. I'm sorry, Dad, I tried to tell the guys that we shouldn't fool with your things, but …"

"How did you get locked out?"

Kevin shrugged, "The guys thought the suit was really cool and talked me into trying it on. We ended up outside to see if it was warm enough to wear to the contest without a coat and got locked out. I'm sorry for ruining your night out with Pam," Kevin apologized.

"Kevin, I'm not worried about a ruined evening. Pam and I can always go out another night," Ralph explained. "Getting locked out, was an act of carelessness, and it could happen to anyone. What does concern me is you and this suit."

"Dad, I know I should have put the suit back as soon as they took it out. I'm sorry I didn't wait for you to give it to me. What I don't understand is why you got me a 'superman' suit, I mean I'm a little old for superheroes. Why didn't you just take me with you to pick something out?"

"I don't know how to tell you this son," Ralph said, placing his hand on his son shoulder, "but, the suit is really mine."

Just as Ralph spoke, their clothes switched. Ralph, was now wearing the complete super-suit and Kevin was fully dressed in what Ralph had been wearing that evening.

"Uh-oh" Ralph said, frantically.

"Dad!" Kevin said, in awe.

"Ralph!" Pam said, entering the room.

"Pam, it just happened. All I said was, 'this suit is really mine'," Ralph explained.

"Ralph, you can't let Kevin's friends see you in that!" Pam warned. "Change it back. Quick!"

Ralph placed his hand on Kevin's shoulder again, "This suit is really yours," he announced. Instantly their clothes switched back and they were dressed as they were before.

"Listen Kevin, you gotta take that suit off. Your friend's parents will be arriving soon to pick them up."

"Okay, Dad," Kevin replied, returning to his bedroom to get changed.

"What did your dad say?" Jim asked, as Kevin returned to his room.

"Not much, he was pretty cool, actually," Kevin answered. "Listen, I gotta get out of this suit! Why don't you guys wait for me in the living room?"

Kevin was relieved to finally get out of that costume and into his regular clothes. All he could think about was his dad wearing the suit. How did he switch their clothes? Where did his dad get these powers? Was Dad really an alien from another planet, like Superman?"

Kevin neatly folded the suit and placed the outfit on the dresser in his room, before joining the others in the living room.

Everyone, including Pam and Ralph, were seated facing the television.

"What's going on?" Kevin asked.

"We're gonna watch "**_It Came From Below,_**" Jim replied, stuffing a handful of popcorn in his mouth. "Want some?" he offered, pointing to the large bowl in front of them on the coffee table.

"Really?" Kevin asked, looking at his dad's smiling face.

"Sure, Kev. Sit down." Ralph nodded and pointed to an empty spot on the couch.

"It was a dark and stormy night…little did they know what was about to happen…" the movie narrator began.

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Tony leaned against the counter at police station. "I'm with the FBI; I'd like to get some information on any recent reports of vandalism, property damage or suspicious behavior," Tony demanded, flashing his badge.

"Yes, sir," the desk clerk, replied. "The information you want can be obtained at the Records office," he said, pointing across the hall.

The Records office consisted of 4 small desks lined in a row against the far wall and a computer terminal at the end. The desks, although unoccupied, were piled with assorted files and stacks of papers. A modestly dressed middle-aged woman sat busily typing at a computer terminal.

Tony walked to the woman at the far end of the room.

"Excuse me, I'm Special Agent Tony Villicana. I'm with the FBI," he said flashing his badge. "I'd like some information please."

"Yes, how may I help you?" the woman asked.

Tony noticed she wore an identification badge bearing a photo ID. "Miss Greenfield?" he said, reading her badge.

"MRS. Greenfield," she corrected.

"So sorry," Tony apologized.

Mrs. Greenfield smiled, appreciative for Tony's respectful demeanor.

"I'm looking for any recent reports on file of vandalism, break-ins, and suspicious behavior."

"Let me see what I can find," she said, clearing her screen and entering information to begin a search through the computer system.

Two police officers entered the room, chatting amicably. "And the kids said they had accidentally locked themselves out, but that's not what the lady next door said. She was convinced they were felons trying to break into the house for drug money. Personally, I think they were up to no good. I just don't get the kid in the red spandex. He looked like he was trying to play superman or something. Imagine a 15 year old kid dressing up like superman."

Tony's ears perked up. Red spandex? Superman? This was too good to be true, Tony thought.

"Excuse me gentlemen," Tony called to the two police officers.

"Yes?" the first officer bearing a badge that identified him as Officer Parody.

"I'm Special Agent Tony Villicana with the FBI, did I hear you right? Are you referring to someone wearing a red outfit that looks like a superman suit? A red suit with black cape?"

"Yes. That mean something to you?" Officer Parody asked.

"It may. Do you happen to have the information on that incident?" Tony requested.

"Uh, yes. I have it right here. Would you like a copy?" the officer offered.

"Thank you, I'd appreciate it," Tony said, politely. "Did the man happen to have blue eyes and blonde curly hair?" he asked.

"Well, yes, but it was a boy, not a man. I mean he was 15, so I suppose he could be mistaken for an adult."

"Are you familiar with any other incidents that this boy may have been involved in?" Tony inquired.

"We ran a check on him. The kid is clean; No priors."

"Agent Villicana? I have the information you requested, would you like me to print out the detailed reports on these files?" Mrs. Greenfield asked.

"Can you do a detailed search for reports of a man wearing a red super-suit?" Tony asked, curiously.

"Sure, I can sort the reports based on any keywords," she replied, entering the new search criteria.

"Thanks, I think that will be very helpful," Tony responded. "**_Very_** helpful."

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

The last of Kevin's friends had just left and Kevin was in his room getting ready for bed, as Ralph had asked.

"Pam, what am I going to tell Kevin about the suit?" Ralph whispered.

"Ralph, I don't know that you have much of a choice. After all, you did manage to 'magically' swap clothes with him."

"I think he can handle it if I tell him the truth," Ralph reasoned aloud. "He's a good kid, smart too. I'll just tell him the truth; that …."

"…You were given the red suit by a spaceship of aliens," Pam finished.

"It does sound like I'm off my rocker!" Ralph said, running his fingers through his hair.

"But, you know what Ralph, he'll believe you."

"Pam, I'm not so sure. I mean, **_I_** still have a hard time believing it myself. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't pinch myself to see if I'm dreaming."

"I know, Ralph, but he's a kid, and they're more willing to accept the unbelievable."

"So you think Kevin will believe me if I say, 'Kevin, your dad was given a super-suit by aliens from another planet'."

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Pam said.

Ralph turned around to see Kevin standing directly behind him with his mouth open.

"Is that really true?" Kevin asked, staring at his dad. "Did aliens from another planet really give you the suit?"

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

Tony got up to stretch his legs, glancing back at the papers strewn across his dining room table. He had been poring over these papers and sorting out facts for hours now. He **_knew_** he was onto something. He just wasn't sure what.

Bent antennas, downed clothes lines, busted walls, roofs and windows, just weren't your typical vandalism complaints, Tony reasoned. Bent TV antennas and downed clothes lines, seemed to be more accidental in nature than intentional. Even that broken window at the Palmdale Hotel didn't sound right. After all, the report says the offender apologized and walked right out of the room. But if it were an accident, how in the world did he get in through a window on the seventh floor? and why bother? He didn't steal anything. Wouldn't he have gotten hurt? Who crashes through a window and walks away unharmed? Tony reasoned.

Tony searched through the papers on the table. Where are those insurance photos of Room 714?

Ah, there they are! Tony said, snatching the papers from the pile.

The photos portrayed the broken window from several different angles. Photographs taken outside the building confirmed that the broken window was indeed located on the 7th floor. There were no trees or other structures near enough for anyone to use to access that room from the outside. Photographs of the broken window, taken from inside the room, showed broken shards of window glass spread along the carpet all the way across the room. This clearly confirmed that the window was shattered from the outside-in not vice versa. The hotel guests could not have broken this window, Tony realized.

Tony looked closer at the carpeting in the photographs. The carpeting was a light shade of beige. Any sign of blood would have been evident on this carpet. Not only wasn't there blood on the carpet; but there was no sign of blood on any of the pieces of broken glass either.

The whole thing seemed impossible, Tony thought. A man dressed in a red suit, flying, crashes into a window and walks out unharmed.

Suddenly Tony remembered something. Quickly searching through the papers, he grabbed the file on the incident Carlisle had reported. Tony flipped through the papers until he found the page he was looking for. 'Carlisle reports that a man dressed in a red, super-hero suit with black cape burst into the department demanding a case file. Carlisle shot the man and **_the bullet bounced off the offender's chest_**.'

Was there actually a man who could be invulnerable to injury, perhaps a man wearing a red super-hero costume?

Tony walked around the table, thinking. The reports of vandalism and suspicious behavior from both the Bureau and the local police were primarily focused on the actual complaints and crimes committed and therefore, not much was said about any man wearing a superman costume. As Tony recalled, in most cases, the occasional comment was made by the men who were arrested.

Tony reached for an FBI file. This case was a kidnapping case. The two men arrested swore they had seen a man in a red superman suit 'do amazing things'. According to the report, the men said they 'saw the man fly, bend steel and lift a car with his own hands.'

The notes in the file say the two men were committed to the Psychiatric Ward for further evaluation.

Tony turned back to Carlisle's file. It said he had been treated for 'stress' by a Psychiatrist after he had reported seeing the man in the red suit.

Tony knew Maxwell believed that there was no man in a red suit. In fact, it looked like anyone who said that there was, ended up in a rubber room. There was no talking to Maxwell, and since he wasn't ready to give up, he decided he'd better be careful who he talked to and what he said. He'd probably have dismissed the whole thing too if he hadn't run into those two officers at the station tonight. They had seen someone in a red suit. This was a fresh lead that **_could_** prove the existence of this 'super' man.


	6. Chapters 26 to 30

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

"Dad?" Kevin asked, staring at his father in disbelief. "Did aliens from another planet really give you the suit?" Kevin repeated.

"We need to talk," Ralph said, indicating that Pam and Kevin should take a seat.

Shaking his head, Ralph began, "Kevin, I know this is going to sound very strange, but everything I'm going to tell you is the God's honest truth. I also need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone. And I mean ANYONE, not even your closest buddy. Okay?"

Kevin shrugged, "Sure, dad."

Ralph sat down in the chair across from the couch where Kevin and Pam were sitting. Leaning forward, Ralph looked straight into Kevin's eyes.

"It all started about 5 years ago. I took the kids in my class out on a field trip to the desert in Palmdale. The school bus started acting up so I had to leave the kids with the bus while I went for some help. On my way for help, I ran into Mr. Maxwell. Or rather he almost ran into me. This was the day I first met Mr. Maxwell."

Kevin couldn't remember exactly when Mr. Maxwell started coming around, but he did remember that it seemed like Mr. Maxwell wasn't there at all and then he was there all the time. In the beginning Mr. Maxwell seemed to argue with his dad an awful lot. In fact, he often wondered how they could be friends. And come to think about it, why DID they spend so much time together? They never agreed on anything!

"While Mr. Maxwell and I were out there in the desert, we saw a flying object in the sky. We didn't know what it was, but it wasn't anything we'd ever seen. We both ducked into his car and watched. Suddenly, all the doors locked by themselves. Looking back now, I know it was the aliens; but instinct tells you that as soon as you're locked in, the first thing you want to do is get out. As hard as we tried, we could not unlock the doors or break through the windows."

"Why didn't Mr. Maxwell just shoot the windows with his gun?" Kevin asked, mesmerized by the story.

"Well, son, before we got in the car I was very angry at Mr. Maxwell because he had nearly run me over. I had taken his gun and threw it away. So, he didn't have that gun at the time," Ralph answered.

Kevin smiled. He knew his dad put up with a lot from Mr. Maxwell, but he had never seen him actually do anything like take his gun away from him! Wow!

"Anyway," Ralph continued. "Right after that, the car radio played a short message from the space craft which told us to 'listen and decide'. We were told that that we had been selected to help. They wanted Mr. Maxwell and me to work together, for them, on problems that needed to be solved; to change things that would save the planet from destruction. They gave me the red suit to use. We were told that it had unearthly powers and would work on no one else but me. I've been wearing that suit and working with Mr. Maxwell since that day."

"Dad, what do the aliens look like? Where are they from? Can I meet them?" asked Kevin.

Ralph flashed a look at Pam before speaking. "Well, Kev, I didn't actually see any of them and it happened so fast; they never told me anything about themselves. It wasn't like the science fiction movies where they introduce themselves and say, 'take me to your leader'."

"What about the suit, Dad?" Kevin asked, "What can you do with it?"

"Well… I can do things like fly, turn invisible, run quickly, move objects without touching them, ignite objects, and holograph in on someone," Ralph answered.

"Wow! You're really like Superman then!" Kevin said, with enthusiasm.

"Well, not exactly," Ralph replied quickly. "The power comes from the suit, Kev. I can't do anything without it."

"Oh! Can I borrow it then? I'd love to try out flying!" Kevin exclaimed, imagining himself zipping across the sky. And wouldn't it be cool to run faster than all the other guys in gym class? he thought. Having the suit could come in handy, Kevin mused.

"First of all, the suit will only work for me," Ralph explained. "It won't work for you, so don't get any ideas. But, even if it could work for you, it isn't a toy and most definitely was never meant to be used in that manner. You understand? And by the way, take it from me, flying isn't all it's cracked up to be," Ralph said, rising to his feet.

"Yeah, Dad, I understand," Kevin answered, disappointed.

"Now, we've all had a busy night I think it's time for bed," Ralph suggested.

"Okay, Dad. Good night. Good night Pam. Thanks for letting me have the guys over tonight. Sorry about the police and all," Kevin replied, imagining what it would be like to have a suit of his own.

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

It was a beautiful sunny Saturday morning. Tony took a deep breath of fresh air before hopping into his blue '82 Toyota Corolla. 10:00 a.m., Tony noted; not too early to pay a little visit to the 15 year old boy in the super suit, he thought.

Before turning the ignition key, Tony reread Officer Parody's incident report from the night before. 'Suspicious behavior, at 13216 Bucko St., Los Angeles, CA 90282, reported by next door neighbor, Mrs. Mabel Jensen. Five teen-aged boys were seen prowling around the premises'. The five boys names were listed. Nothing remarkable there, he thought. "'Peter Scanlon, Joel Thornton, Scott Emerson, Jim Kingsman, John Kingsman, and Kevin Hinkley,'" he read aloud.

"13216 Bucko Street," Tony repeated aloud. Why does that address sound so familiar? He wondered.

He looked at the property owner's name: Ralph and Pamela Hinkley.

Mr. Hinkley? My old high school teacher? Tony wondered, staring at the incident report in his hands. 'The officers responding to the call noted that fifteen year old 'Kevin Hinkley' was dressed in a black-caped red super-hero costume. Kevin Hinkley's identity was confirmed by his father.'

"**_Kevin Hinkley?" _**He repeated, surprised. "Mr. Hinkley's son?"

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Bill slipped his loaded gun into his shoulder holster.

I've gotta convince Carlisle to drop these vandalism cases, he thought. There is no way to put these files to rest without drawing attention to Ralph and his super-suit, he reasoned.

I'll tell Carlisle nothing's turning up, and it's a dead-end. He'll see it my way and we'll put this baby to bed, Bill said to himself; but deep down, Bill knew he was kidding himself.

He walked out to his car and climbed into the driver's seat.

No matter what it took, he'd get Carlisle to drop this, Bill decided.

All the way to the Bureau, Bill considered the different approaches he could take in dealing with Carlisle. He decided the most effective way to deal with Carlisle was to appear 'sincere' and 'logical'. That shouldn't be a problem; he sincerely thought it was the logical thing to do.

Bill was glad to see the Bureau's parking lot fairly empty. Carlisle's car was parked in his 'reserved' parking spot. It still irked him how this jerk got promoted above him when Carlisle couldn't solve a case if a felon were blind-folded, hand-cuffed and dropped in his lap with a video-taped confession!

In no time at all, Bill was outside Carlisle's office. The door was open and Carlisle was busy with some paper work on his desk. Just as Bill was about to enter, Carlisle's telephone rang.

Bill froze. He hated sitting in Carlisle's office while Carlisle was on the phone. He knew Carlisle did everything he could to flaunt his authority.

"Carlisle, here," he said, answering the phone.

"Oh, hello Mr. Dennison," Carlisle added, in a much more respectful tone.

Bill knew Mr. Dennison. Paul Dennison was a big wig with the Bureau for many years. His dedication and outstanding service had earned him the power to hire and fire without question.

"Yes, Mr. Dennison. I understand. Mr. Maxwell **_is_** our best Agent, and would be the most qualified to head up the new **_Task Force_**, but don't you think he's losing his edge?"

What? Bill couldn't believe his ears. He stepped further away from the door, and crouched down into a position behind a nearby desk, where he could still hear Carlisle's conversation.

"Oh, no sir, I agree," Carlisle responded, nervously. "He **_is_** well suited for the job, but I can't **_force_** him to do, sir. The man feels that his age is catching up to him… Oh no sir! I am not implying anything about your age sir! It's just that if Maxwell feels he is slowing down and prefers a desk job or retirement…."

Retirement? Who said anything about retirement? Bill mumbled angrily to himself.

"Right now?" Carlisle asked, "I'm not sure which case he's working on. I'd have to check the duty roster sir…. You want him on the Thompson Jewelry store heist? Yes sir, as soon as he finishes with …"

The Thompson Jewelry store case? That's the hottest case we got! Bill's mouth hung open in amazement. Carlisle assigned that case to Neilson and Unger!

As if on cue, Agent Unger stepped off the nearby elevator and entered Carlisle's office.

"Yes, Mr. Dennison. I'll see if I can change Maxwell's mind and assign him to the Thompson case right away," Carlisle said, before hanging up the phone.

"Unger, what's up? Anything new with the Thompson case?" Carlisle asked, hopefully.

"No, nothing. Neilson and I are chasing our tails on this one," Unger replied.

"Don't tell me that! Dennison wants Maxwell on the case and if you don't get this taken care of soon, I'll have to give it to Maxwell. He still wants Maxwell as the head of the new task force and if you don't wrap that case up, I won't have anything to go to Dennison with to get you that job!" Carlisle shouted.

"We're working on it. Just keep Maxwell out of my hair and I'll crack this one before the end of the week," Unger answered. "What have you got planned for Maxwell?" he asked.

Carlisle laughed. "Get this! I assigned the new recruit to him and gave him the cold case Vandalism files. I figure either he won't come up with anything or he'd have to follow the trail of the Superman in the red suit. Maxwell will either come up empty and look like a worthless agent; or end up chasing after some guy in red tights and look like he's lost his marbles. Either way, he's looking at an early retirement and you get promoted to heading up the new Task Force," Carlisle replied, sounding full of himself.

"I get the Task Force job, and you don't look too bad either," Unger agreed.

**_It's not the Department that's holding me back_**, Bill realized, **_it's Carlisle!_** He's had it in for me since the beginning! he reasoned. He's trying to push me out of the FBI.

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

Ralph sat quietly at the kitchen table reading the morning newspaper, while Pam set the table for breakfast.

"How does French toast sound for breakfast this morning, Ralph?" Pam asked.

"Sounds great, honey," Ralph said, from behind the newspaper.

"Want some bacon with that?" Pam said, removing the eggs and butter from the refrigerator.

"Sounds great, honey," Ralph repeated.

"Want syrup or jelly with your French toast?" Pam asked, opening a loaf of bread.

"Sounds great, honey," Ralph repeated again.

"Ralph!" Pam said, annoyed.

Ralph lowered the newspaper, "Only kidding, Pam!" he said, chuckling. "I'll take syrup," he said, returning his attention to the paper.

Pam shook her head. "Very funny," she said, pretending she was about to empty the milk carton on his head.

"What's going on?" Kevin asked, as he entered the kitchen.

Ralph looked up from the paper again. "Hey Kev, you ready for the big game this afternoon?" he asked.

Kevin smiled and nodded, "Sure am, Dad! All the guys are jealous that I'm going to the game. It's nearly impossible to get tickets to a World Series game! You're the greatest father in the world!" Kevin said, giving his dad a hug.

"Greatest father in the world? I don't know about that Kevin," Ralph said, modestly.

"Well, I'd say **_at least_** the greatest dad in America!" Kevin answered, joking.

"Did you hear that Ralph? You're the Greatest American Father," Pam said, agreeing.

"That's quite a tribute considering it isn't even Father's Day!" Ralph responded, smiling.

Just as Kevin passed the telephone, it rang.

"Hello," Kevin said, answering the phone on its second ring.

"Oh, hi, Jim. No, I'm not doing anything right now. Why?" Kevin said, into the phone.

Pam placed a plate of sizzling hot slices of cinnamon French toast on the table.

"Smells great, Pam," Ralph said, folding the newspaper he had been reading.

"Hey Dad, is it okay if I go over Jim's house for a few hours?" Kevin asked.

"I don't see why not," Ralph answered, nodding his head. "You want a lift over there?"

"No, I'll take my bike," Kevin replied.

"Just make sure you're home before noon," Ralph said pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

"Okay, Dad," Kevin answered.

"Have some breakfast before you go," Pam urged, as Kevin hung up the phone.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry," Kevin said, as he disappeared out the kitchen door.

"Well, I guess it's just you and me," Pam said, smiling.

"No complaints here," Ralph answered, leaning forward to give her a kiss on the lips.

"You know Ralph, I'm kinda glad we have a few moments to ourselves."

"Me too, Pam. Do you realize we haven't had a moment alone since…?" Ralph tried to remember.

"I know, Ralph. Believe me, I know."

"Well, Kevin's gone for a few hours, why don't we try to make the most of the time we have now. After all, there's no time like the present," Ralph suggested.

"Speaking of that, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," Pam said, quietly.

"Oh? What's that, Pam?" Ralph asked, popping the last piece of bacon on his plate into his mouth.

"Ralph, I…" Pam began, but was interrupted by the door bell.

"Sorry hon, I'd better get the door. I'm sure it's not Bill," Ralph said, apologetically.

"Yeah, he'd let himself in," Pam mumbled.

**Chapter Thirty**

Bill slipped out from behind the desk and returned to his car without being observed.

He could not believe what he had just heard outside Carlisle's office. Carlisle had flat out **_lied _**to one of the most powerful men at the Bureau, Mr. Dennison. Mr. Dennison had told Carlisle to promote **_him_** to the new position heading up a Task Force; instead, Carlisle stuck him with a green recruit and sent him on a wild goose chase. All along, Carlisle was preparing to give **_his_** position to Jack Unger and force Bill out of the FBI!

Bill was mad. He needed to do something and do it quick, he decided, pulling onto the highway.

In no time, he'd be at Ralph's house.


	7. Chapters 31 to 34

**Chapter Thirty-one**

Tony waited patiently on the doorstep of his former high school teacher's home. It really wasn't all that long ago, he thought; it seemed like only yesterday that he was a student in Mr. Hinkley's class in high school.

Looking back, Tony knew, even then, that Mr. Hinkley really cared about his students. Mr. Hinkley had personally helped Tony through some rough times. Tony recalled the time he quit school. He was not doing well at school and was feeling frustrated. His dad, who had dropped out of high school when he was young, had all but encouraged Tony to do the same. So, discouraged with school, Tony took his dad's advice and dropped out. Looking for a job without a high school diploma was fruitless. Unable to find work, things seemed to go from bad to worse. It didn't take long for Tony to realize what an impossible situation he had placed himself. Mr. Hinkley, who had pleaded with Tony not to quit school, refused to give up on Tony. He visited Tony's house several times to talk with his parents as well as him. In the end, with Mr. Hinkley's persuasion, both Tony and his dad agreed on the importance of Tony finishing high school and as a result, Tony returned to school.

"Tony? Well, I'll be! Tony Villicana!" Ralph exclaimed, as he opened the front door. "It's great to see you. Come on it!" he said stepping aside.

"Thank you Mr. Hinkley. It's good to see you too," Tony replied, entering the house.

"Pam and I are eating breakfast. Why don't you join us, Tony? It sure is good to see you again. You know I don't often see many students after they graduate," Ralph said, leading Tony into the kitchen.

Pam looked up from her seat at the table. "Tony?"

"Hi Miss David… -er Mrs. Hinkley," Tony replied, warmly.

"Listen Tony, now that you're no longer my student, why don't you just call us by our first names, Ralph and Pam," Ralph suggested.

Tony nodded, but wasn't sure how easy it would be. Could he really call his old teacher by his first name? **_RALPH_**? The idea was very strange.

"Would you like some French toast?" Pam asked, politely. Rising from her seat to set another place, she didn't bother to wait for his answer. "I can whip up some more in just a second," she said, serving the last few pieces of the French toast to Tony."

"So, Tony, what are you up to these days?" Ralph asked, stabbing a small piece of French toast with his fork.

Tony reached for the bottle of maple syrup. "I just graduated from the FBI academy, Mr. Hink… -er Ralph." It wasn't going to be easy calling his teacher by his first name, Tony decided.

Ralph smiled, "That's great, Tony, I always knew you could do it. How do you like it so far?"

"I'm working with Mr. Maxwell," Tony replied. "He hasn't changed a bit."

Tony took his first bite of French toast. "Very good, delicious," he said, turning to Pam. He wasn't going to even try to use their first names.

"That's right, Bill told me you two are partners now," Ralph commented. "How do you like it so far?"

"It's great. I really love the investigative work. I feel like I'm playing a game of 'CLUE'," Tony answered. "Got any more orange juice?" he asked, pouring out the last few drops of juice into his glass.

"Sure Tony, hang on," Ralph said, reaching into the refrigerator behind him.

Pam placed a new batch of French toast on the table and returned to her seat.

"Do you keep in touch with any of the other students from class?" Ralph asked.

"Not really. I ran into Ronda a few months ago, but other than that, no." It'd be great to see everyone though, Tony thought.

"I always thought something would develop between you and Ronda," Pam said, with a sly smirk on her face.

"Uh, no. I mean, nothing happened. Once she got involved with the band, they spent a lot of time traveling and we lost touch," Tony answered, surprised at the disappointment he heard in his own voice.

"So, how's Kevin?" Tony asked. "What is he now, 15 or 16?"

"Kevin? Oh, he just turned 15," Ralph replied, "In fact yesterday was his birthday."

"Oh yeah? He's in high school now? Wow, unbelievable. He was just a kid when I saw him last. Is he around? I'd like to see him," Tony responded.

"No, he's over a friend's house right now. In fact, you just missed him," Ralph replied. "He'll be disappointed he missed you; I know he'd like to see you again too. You know Tony, he really liked you. I think he thought of you as his big brother."

"Yeah, he was a good kid."

"Why don't you come by for dinner sometime this week?" Ralph asked. "Kevin's staying with me all next week."

"Sure. That sounds terrific," Tony said, helping himself to another piece of French toast.

"How about Saturday night?" Ralph suggested, looking at Pam for confirmation.

Pam shook her head, "No, Ralph we have to chaperone the Halloween costume contest at the school next Saturday night."

"Oh yes, Irene won't be too happy if I cancel on her," Ralph commented.

"Costume contest?" Tony asked. "For Halloween?"

"It's a new thing this year," Ralph replied. "They're offering prizes for the best costumes."

"What's Kevin going as?" Tony asked, curiously.

"Uh… We're not sure yet," Ralph stammered, nervously.

"You know how indecisive kids can be about their costumes," Pam added.

**_Kevin?_** Tony thought. He was surprised to hear that. Kevin had always been a kid with a mind of his own; he'd never describe Kevin as 'indecisive'. Tony sensed their discomfort and knew Pam was covering for Ralph. He decided to let it go.

"How about dinner on Friday night then?" Tony asked.

Ralph agreed, "Friday night would be perfect," he said, nodding.

"How about 6:00 p.m.?" Pam suggested.

Tony nodded, "Great!"

**Chapter Thirty-two**

Bill pulled into Ralph's driveway paying little attention to the '82 blue Toyota parked across the street.

"Ralph? Ralph!" Bill called, as he unlocked the front door and burst into the living room. "We have no time to lose, you gotta get into your red jammies and come with me to the Bureau!" he said, gruffly.

The living room was empty. Where was he! Bill wondered. We don't have time for this!

"Ralph! Where are you kid?" he shouted urgently, racing down the hall to the kitchen.

"Come on, Ral…" Bill stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Tony.

"Villicana?" he said, shocked. "What are you doing here? ….Ralph, what is Villicana doing here?" Bill said, turning to Ralph, not waiting for Tony's response.

"Good morning to you too, Maxwell," Tony replied smiling, holding up his fork bearing a limp, oversized piece of French toast dripping with syrup.

"Tony stopped by and is joining us for breakfast, Bill. Want some French toast?" Ralph offered.

Pam rose from her seat to set another place setting for Bill.

"Breakfast? You invited **_Villicana_** for **_breakfast_** and **_not me_**?" Bill whined.

"We don't have to invite you Bill," Pam explained, "You're always here anyway," she said, sarcastically, mixing a batch of fresh batter.

"Very funny, counselor!" Bill retorted, taking a seat.

**Chapter Thirty-three**

Jim and John were shooting pool in the game room at the Kingsman's when Kevin arrived.

"Hi Kev," John said, handing Kevin a pool cue.

"Hi guys," Kevin answered, watching Jim aim for the 8-ball and sink it.

"Hi Kev," Jim answered, replacing all the pocketed balls onto the top of the pool table.

"Nice shot Jim," Kevin said.

"We're just goofing around," John said, "Peter will be here soon and we can play teams," he added.

"Okay," Kevin answered, racking the balls together.

"Hi Kevin, nice to see you," greeted Mrs. Kingsman, as she entered the game room carrying a tray of assorted fruit.

"Hi Mrs. Kingsman," Kevin answered, smiling, glad to see some food. He should have eaten something before he left home, but he was in a hurry to get to his friends' house.

"Help yourself boys," Mrs. Kingsman said, "I've got more upstairs, if you run out," She added.

The boys made a b-line for the fruit.

"How long 'til Peter gets here?" Kevin asked, tossing a grape in the air and catching it with his mouth.

"Don't know," replied John, "He had to take care of his chores first," biting into an apple.

Kevin tossed another grape in the air, but Jim pushed Kevin aside and caught it in his mouth.

"Hey, Jim! That's mine!" Kevin complained, not really mad.

"Want it back?" Jim joked, pretending to reach into his mouth to retrieve it.

"Uh… no thanks, you can have it," Kevin said, making a face.

"Throw me one, Kev," Jim suggested, "I bet I can catch it from here!" he declared, backing further away from Kevin.

"Okay," Kevin responded. He picked up a small grape and tossed it high in the air toward Jim.

Jim watched closely and moved in closer catching it squarely in his mouth. "Not bad, no?" he asked, chewing the grape.

"Oh brother!" groaned John, rolling his eyes. "He practices with popcorn and stuff all the time! He thinks it impresses the girls."

"Does it?" Kevin asked, curious.

"Sure!" Jim exclaimed. "Never fails. You should try it!"

"Yeah, you can tell how successful he is by the number of girls he has chasing after him!" teased John. "Forget it; no girl wants to see a guy playing with his food!"

"It's a skill of coordination, John," Jim explained. "Girls go for sleek, cool moves."

"Like catching grapes? I don't think so, Jim," John argued. "Well, at least Kevin won't need it for Tracy Thompson."

Kevin cringed. He didn't like where this conversation was going, so he popped another grape in his mouth and headed back toward the pool table.

"What about Tracy Thompson?" Peter asked, walking into the game room, carrying containers of juice.

"My mom sent those down with you!" Jim asked, joking.

"Yeah, I guess she doesn't trust you guys to carry anything that might spill!" Peter laughed, placing the drinks on the table near the fruit.

"Not a problem for Jim, he's Mr. Coordination!" John teased.

"How true," Jim nodded his head, good-naturedly, choosing to not take offense at his brother's sarcasm. He tossed another grape in the air to catch it with his mouth, but this time it rebounded off his nose and landed on his eye.

"Now THAT will attract girls!" John mocked.

"Hey, don't laugh! Girls love slapstick comedians like Jim Carey, Bob Hope, and Jerry Lewis," Peter argued. "My mom and her girlfriends watch their movies at our house all the time!"

"Well, we're not talking about **_old_** women like your mom, we're talking about **_Tracy Thompson_**," John teased, tossing a look in Kevin's direction.

"Cut it out, John," Kevin said, giving him a dirty look.

"Hey, did you hear about the robbery at her dad's jewelry store?" Peter asked.

"Where have you been? That happened 2 weeks ago," Jim replied, crunching into a large Bartlett pear.

"No, not that one! **_Another_** one of his stores was robbed; the store downtown was burglarized. It's the 3rd store in two weeks."

"Wow, Pete, I only heard about the first one," Kevin said.

"My dad golfs with Tracy's dad, that's how we heard about it," Peter explained. "He said the police haven't been able to come up with anything. No finger prints, nothing. He says the odd thing about it is that all the stolen jewelry was taken from a safe and hadn't even been on display."

"How many stores does he own?" Kevin asked, wondering. He knew the Thompson's were well-off and that Mr. Thompson owned his own jewelry store; but he had no idea the man owned a chain of them! How could anyone rob three stores and leave no clue behind?

"He owns 4 stores," Peter replied. "Isn't that weird that 3 of them get hit within such a short time period, the same way and leave no evidence?"

"There HAS to be evidence. Even the lack of evidence is evidence!" Jim exclaimed.

"What? Are you crazy, Jim?" John asked. "Lack of evidence is evidence?"

Kevin thought about it a moment. I wonder if Jim is right…

**Chapter Thirty-four**

Bill watched as Tony's car disappeared down the street and out of sight.

"Finally!" he said, "I thought he'd never leave," Bill complained, referring to Tony.

"Bill, I wish you wouldn't give Tony such a hard time," Ralph said, helping Pam clear the breakfast dishes from the table. "He's a good kid and …."

"Yeah, I know… I know! I've heard it all before, Ralph. Forget about him. We've got bigger fish to fry," Bill said, impatiently.

"What's going on, Bill?" Ralph asked, placing the last of the dishes into the sink.

"Ralph, you gotta go put on the red jammies and come down with me to the Bureau," Bill requested impatiently.

"What? Bill, I've got tickets to the World Series game this afternoon. I don't have time to …" Ralph saw the determination in Bill's eyes. "Why don't you just start at the beginning and tell me what's going on?" Ralph insisted.

"Ralph, we're losing precious time. Just get the jammies and I'll tell you on the way!" Bill urged.

Ralph shook his head and started walking toward his bedroom. "Oh, wait a minute," he stopped, "The suit isn't in my briefcase anymore; Kevin had it," he said.

"What? What in the world would Kevin be doing with your magic suit?" Bill asked.

"It's a long story," Ralph replied, heading for Kevin's room.

"Did Kevin find out?" Bill asked Pam.

Pam moved closer to Bill before speaking. "Bill, Kevin got a hold of the suit," she said gently. "He thought it was a Halloween costume that Ralph bought for him."

"Oh. So, no harm no foul," Bill concluded.

"Not exactly," Pam said, quietly, "Kevin put the suit on and when Ralph touched him…"

"What…." Bill was reluctant to put his thoughts into words, "I'm afraid to ask, what happened?"

"They switched clothes," Pam answered. "Ralph said something that swapped their clothes. Ralph had the red suit on and Kevin…. Well, was wearing Ralph's clothes. But don't worry; he switched their clothes right back before anyone else could see."

"What do you mean before anyone **_else_** could see? Where did this happen?" Bill asked, trying to remain calm.

"Oh, it was here, at home," Pam answered.

Bill sighed, "Good, you had me concerned there for a minute. So, no one saw anything; and no one else, aside from Kevin, knows about the suit."

"Well, that isn't **_entirely_** accurate. Kevin had a few friends over. They all thought the suit was Kevin's costume for the Halloween contest, so there's no need to worry."

"No need to worry! Kevin and twenty of his cohorts know about the magic suit and you say there's nothing to worry about!" Bill began pacing the floor.

"It was only five of his friends; and they also thought the suit was a Halloween costume. Trust me, there's no problem," Pam said, calmly.

Ralph returned to the living room empty-handed. He had his hand on his chin, with a confused look on his face.

"What's the matter, Ralph?" Pam asked, anxiously.

"I can't find it," Ralph said.

"You can't find … the suit?" Bill asked, with his eyes wide-open in disbelief. "Please tell me that's **_not_** what you meant," he insisted.

"I'm sorry Bill, I can't find the suit. It just isn't there. I searched Kevin's closet and all his drawers. I even looked under his bed, not a pretty sight I might add. Listen Pam, we're gonna have to talk to that boy about stuffing things under his bed…"

"RALPH!" Bill shouted. "He must have taken it with him. Where is Kevin right now?" Bill demanded.

"Right Bill," Ralph said, rushing to the telephone.

"Oh great!" Bill muttered.

"Kevin?" Ralph said into the phone. "I need to know where you put the red suit. You didn't take it with you did you?"

"Bill, I really don't think he took the suit with him. I mean he rode his bicycle over there and we saw him head out the door…" Pam explained.

"I CHECKED your room. WHERE in your room did you put it?" Ralph was clearly beginning to panic.

"See Bill, Kevin doesn't have it with him. It MUST be here somewhere," Pam said beginning to search the room.

"I need you to come home right away and get it for me. And Kevin, we need to talk about stuffing things under your bed."

"Not in here," Pam concluded, heading toward their bedroom. "Maybe he put it in **_our_** room somewhere," she suggested.

"I'll check the laundry room," Ralph suggested, also leaving the living room.

Bill stood there shaking his head. "This **_isn't_** happening."


	8. Chapters 35 to 38

**Chapter Thirty-five**

Tony was disappointed that Kevin was not at home. He had hoped he would have an opportunity to ask Kevin about his 'black-caped, red, super-hero' costume. As he drove down the road, Tony glanced at the police report lying on the seat beside him. The incident at the Hinkley home was the freshest lead he had in this vandalism case. Could Kevin actually be the mysterious 'Superman' behind all this? Could Kevin be capable of causing this kind of damage?

Tony shook his head. The Kevin he knew would never intentionally do the kinds of things this 'superman' had done, especially on purpose. This is **_five years_** worth of vandalism here, Tony recalled. Five years… **_five years?_** That would make Kevin only **_ten years old_** at the time of some of these earlier vandalism incidents! It **_couldn't_** be Kevin! he realized. The incident report was useless! Kevin must have been dressed up in some hokey red Halloween superhero costume goofing off with his friends, Tony reasoned. That makes more sense than Kevin busting through windows and pulling down clotheslines. It must be some other character, he concluded. But **_who?_**

Tony's mind wandered as he continued down the street heading back toward the Bureau.

Approaching from the opposite direction, pedaling as fast as he could, was a blonde, curly-haired teen-aged boy on a bike. The teen reminded Tony of Kevin Hinkley. Could it be him? he wondered.

Without a second thought, Tony jerked the car around and followed the boy on the bike to his home.

The boy rode up the Hinkley's front lawn and leapt off the bike tossing it carelessly aside.

Tony watched as the front door opened and Ralph, Pam and Bill ran out to greet Kevin.

"Where is it, Kevin? Where's the red jammies!" Bill frantically demanded.

"Bill!" Ralph scowled at Bill.

Kevin shrugged his shoulders as he ran into the house with a worried expression on his face.

'**_Red jammies'? _** Tony repeated. The words struck him cold. They're worried about red pajamas? Tony wondered. No. That's not it at all, is it?

**_Red_****_pajamas_**… **_Red jammies._**

_Ralph? Ralph! We have no time to lose; you gotta get into your red jammies and come with me to the Bureau! _Bill's words reverberated in Tony's mind as he sat in his car across the street from the Hinkley home.

Suddenly he knew.

**Chapter Thirty-six**

Kevin ran into the house and straight to the dresser in his room to look for the red super suit. "It's not here," he said, looking puzzled.

"Think! Kevin, where did you put it after you took it off last night," Ralph said calmly.

"I put it right here on my dresser," Kevin answered firmly, pointing to the only bare spot on his dresser. "I'm sure I did," he said sounding as if he were trying to convince himself.

"Well, Kevin, you must have put it someplace else because it's not there now…" Ralph shot back impatiently. "You know Kevin, you really need to pick up this room," Ralph commented as he picked up a crumbled shirt that had been draped over an open dresser drawer.

"Dad…" Kevin stopped short. "Does the suit have powers to move by itself?" he asked worriedly.

"No, of course not Kevin, don't be ridiculous," Ralph answered without thinking. "At least it never did before…. Now Kevin, let's just go over everything that happened last night."

"Well, the guys waited in here, while I talked to you out in the living room about the suit… then I came back to my room and got changed out of the suit. I left it on the dresser and joined everyone in the living room to watch the movie," Kevin said carefully. "After the guys left last night, I went to bed."

"Did you notice if the suit was on your dresser last night before you went to bed?" Pam asked gently.

"I don't … wait a minute! It **_wasn't _**there last night. I'm **_sure_** of it! It was not there! I thought you had taken it back," Kevin insisted.

Ralph shook his head, "No, I haven't seen it since you were wearing it," he said, turning to Pam.

"I didn't touch it," Pam added.

"What's that?" Bill asked, pointing to the floor area beneath the dresser.

Kevin bent down and pulled out a pair of shoes.

"**_Those are your shoes, Ralph!"_** Bill said excitedly. He dropped to his knees on the floor and began pulling everything out from underneath the dresser. "Where is it? Where's the suit?" he demanded as he searched anxiously.

"Here Dad," Kevin said, handing the shoes to his father. "You won't find the suit under there, Mr. Maxwell," Kevin answered. "It's gone."

Bill slowly rose to his feet with a worried look on his face. "It's gone? You're telling me that the red suit that the aliens gave us… **_is gone?_**"

**Chapter Thirty-seven**

Tony returned to his apartment with a carton filled with the FBI vandalism case files and assorted police reports. Tony was sure he knew **_who_** was masquerading around town as the mysterious superman; he just wasn't sure **_why_**. He knew the answer would come to him in time. He also knew he couldn't go to Maxwell about this until he had all his facts straight, and that was exactly what he planned to do, even if it took all weekend to do it.

Tony carefully placed the heavy carton on the floor in the dining room of his apartment and pulled out the first file folder. This file was the incident at the bureau that Carlisle had reported about five years ago. Tony recalled that Carlisle had given a detailed description of the costumed intruder. He opened the file and skimmed over the report. It read, '_The man had blonde curly hair, blue eyes, light complexion, his height was about 5'11, non-threatening…'. _Tony smiled. This was a good description.

He put the file folder down and reached into the carton for the information on the vandalism claim at the Palmdale Hotel from last year. The description given was nearly identical word-for-word, and read, _"He was about 5'11 with blonde curly hair, average build. He was dressed like Superman…"._ Tony smiled again. This is just as he had expected.

Tony continued to dig through the files and compare the descriptions of the man in the red suit, and the circumstances surrounding these cases. Not surprisingly, the descriptions of the costumed man matched. Not one case or incident reported a man as anything but a blonde curly-topped man wearing a red 'superman' suit.

Next, Tony compiled any detailed information he could find on 'a red costumed superman' given to the FBI by convicted criminals. Even though most men were deemed 'insane' and sent to the Psychiatric Ward or Sanitarian for treatment, their statements all testified of a man answering the same description.

Tony began to notice that Agent Bill Maxwell solved many of these cases. Even though Maxwell received the credit for solving these cases single-handedly, many of the arrested criminals attested to the fact that a mysterious 'superman' was very much Maxwell's partner.

There was no question that this man existed. There was no doubt as to who this man was. This confirmed exactly what Tony already suspected: Bill Maxwell and Ralph Hinkley were more than friends; they were partners.

Tony rubbed his eyes. Weary from hours of sifting through case files, Tony collapsed on the couch in his living room. He yawned and stretched out full-length on the courch..

Tony sighed. There were still too many unanswered questions.

Wanting a distraction, he reached over and grabbed the remote control. He clicked on the television, not paying any attention to the television screen. The sounds of gunshots filled the room.

"Sorry gentlemen, your bullets won't work on me…" Tony heard a familiar voice calmly announce.

Tony glanced at the television screen. An episode of **_The Adventures of Superman_** was on. Tony watched Superman calmly stand in place with his arms folded confidently across his chest, smiling at his assailant. Bullets bounced off his chest as Superman waited patiently for the last bullet to be expelled. As always, the assailant quickly ran out of bullets, panicked and took off running for his life.

Tony smiled. He knew what came next. As in every other **_Superman_** episode, Superman easily caught up to the criminal, subdued him, and handed him over to the police.

As his eyelids grew heavy, sleepiness overtook Tony and he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

In his dreams, Tony saw Mr. Hinkley dressed in the red suit with black cape. He was running down a street, chasing a bank robber. As he ran, he carelessly knocked garbage cans over and pulled clotheslines down. He tumbled and tripped, crashing into parked cars, denting them and accidentally bending antennas. In spite of his clumsiness, Mr. Hinkley managed to keep up with the criminal. With one giant leap, he rose up into the air and began to fly, soaring like an eagle.

Suddenly, Mr. Hinkley fell to the ground, landing atop of the bank robber. Bill Maxwell appeared just in time to slap handcuffs on the man and arrest him, as Mr. Hinkley faded into the background.

**Chapter Thirty-eight**

"Kevin, what do you mean, the suit is gone?" Ralph asked his son.

Kevin looked down, "I… think Scott has it," he answered sheepishly.

"What? You gave the super suit to some irresponsible kid?" Bill said incredulously. "Ralph, this is getting way out of hand here."

"Hold on a minute, Bill. I'll take care of this," Ralph said, not taking his eyes off his son. "What happened, Kev?"

"I didn't mean to give it to him… I mean… well… it was before I knew what the suit could do, Dad. I didn't much care for the suit, especially after the cop called me 'superboy'. I felt like a walking joke. All the guys thought it looked great, but I still felt foolish. Scott, especially, liked it and asked if he could borrow it since I didn't like it. After we were locked out of the house, cutting your dinner date with Pam short, I wasn't sure you'd even let me go to the costume party. So, when Scott asked if he could borrow the costume, I told him he could. I'm sorry, Dad. I'll get it back from him. Don't worry."

Kevin left his bedroom to go call Scott.

"Looks like he doesn't like the suit any more than you do, Ralph," Pam commented as they left Kevin's room.

"Can't say I blame him," Ralph replied.

Kevin hung up the phone just as they entered the kitchen. "Scott and his mom were just on their way out. Scott said they could swing by here to drop off the suit. He thinks I'm wearing it to the party on Saturday night, Dad."

"Ralph, the kid can't wear the suit. Who knows what will happen? He might ruin it!" Bill grumbled.

"Bill, we don't even have the suit back yet…" Ralph answered.

"They should be here soon, I'll go outside and wait for them," Kevin said, glad for an excuse to leave the room. He didn't know how Maxwell and his dad managed to get anything done with all that arguing. If **_he_** had the suit, it would be different. No one would tell **_him_** what to do.

Kevin sat down on the front steps, waiting for Scott and his mom to arrive. He looked around. Mrs. Jensen was sitting outside on her porch reading a book. She seemed to sense Kevin looking her way and looked up from her book.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Jensen," Kevin called across the way.

"Good afternoon, Kevin," she responded, with a wave. "Would you like a chocolate chip cookie?" she asked, pointing to a small plate of cookies on the table beside her.

"No thanks, Mrs. Jensen," he answered politely.

"Hi, Kevin!"

Kevin turned to see who had called him. Kevin froze.

Crossing the street in front of his house was Tracy Thompson. She was heading his way, coming right to him!

What was he going to do? What should he say? He tried to remain calm. "Hi, Tracy," he said, trying to sound friendly, as he rose to his feet.

Kevin shifted his weight nervously from one foot to another. Here he was, alone with Tracy Thompson! The moment had finally come for him to talk to her without the guys hanging around to harass him… and he couldn't think of a single thing to say! He couldn't believe it. What a jerk she must think I am, he thought.

"Did you hear that they changed the Freshman Halloween contest from tonight to next Saturday night?" Tracy asked hesitantly.

"Uh… yeah. I hear there weren't enough parental volunteers available to chaperone the contest and the party afterwards," Kevin replied, relieved that Tracy broke the awkward silence.

"Mrs. Johnson tried to get my parents to chaperone, but they are always too busy," Tracy commented, moving closer to Kevin.

Kevin could smell the sweet scent of her perfume. "Oh…? then you're not going," Kevin replied disappointed.

"Oh no, I can go. It's just my _parents_ that can't make it," Tracy said matter-of-factly. "If you're going, maybe we can go together," she suggested shyly.

Did he hear that right? **_Tracy Thompson wants to go to the party with him?_**

"Sure," Kevin answered happily. "But, we'll have to leave for the contest a little early because my dad and step-mom are chaperones."

Just then, Scott's mom's station-wagon pulled into the Hinkley's driveway. Scott's mom waved, "Hi Kevin! who's you're little friend?" she said warmly, remaining seated in the driver's seat of the idling car.

Kevin caught the knowing smirk on Scott's face as his gaze shifted back and forth between him and Tracy.

"Mrs. Emerson, this is my friend, Tracy Thompson. Tracy, this is Scott's mom, Mrs. Emerson," Kevin said politely.

"Tracy **_Thompson_**? You wouldn't be related to **_Albert and Anise Thompson_**, would you?" Mrs. Emerson asked in awe.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Emerson," Tracy said, walking over to the car with her hand extended. "Hi, Scott," she said, peering through the window. Tracy returned her attention to Mrs. Emerson, "Yes, they're my parents," Tracy answered politely. "Do you know them?"

"Oh, no… not personally. I heard the news of the jewelry thefts at their stores. My goodness, three thefts in two weeks. I'm sorry to hear of their bad fortune. Have they by any chance caught the robbers yet?"

Tracy glanced down at her feet before answering, "No, there hasn't been any news," she answered quietly.

"Well, I'm sure they'll have it solved in no time, honey," Mrs. Emerson said, confidently.

"Thank you," Tracy replied, moving closer to Kevin.

"Have you got the costume?" Kevin asked, changing the subject, sensing Tracy's discomfort at Mrs. Emerson's questions.

"Oh, yes! Where's my mind?" Mrs. Emerson said, turning her attention to Scott. "Scott, why don't you hop out and hand the boy his costume," she instructed.

Scott opened the car door and carried the red super-suit to Kevin.

"Kevin, I'm so glad you'll be going to the costume party after all," Mrs. Emerson said fondly. "I must say, that really is an amazing costume you've got there. A superman costume, very clever. I am sure you will look _adorable_ in it. I've never seen that type of fabric before; did your mom sew the costume herself or have someone else make it?"

"No, my mom doesn't sew. Thank you for the compliment," Kevin answered nervously. He knew it was not a good idea to be answering questions about this suit, especially since he was sure his dad wouldn't want him to wear it to a party.

"Can I see it?" Tracy asked with interest, taking the red suit from Scott. She held it up and let it unfold.

Kevin watched the expression on her face turn from curiosity to admiration.

"Kevin, this costume is incredible! I can't wait to see it on you. You'll win the contest for sure!" she said enthusiastically.

"Well, I don't know… " Kevin replied, not sure how to tell her he was not going to be wearing it to the party.

"You'll certainly give Scott's costume a run for the money!" Mrs. Emerson said teasingly.

"_Mom_…." Scott said in a warning tone of voice that suggested his mom was embarrassing him.

"It's okay, son," she answered confidently, addressing Scott. "Your costume is no big _secret_."

"Oh? What are you going as?" Tracy asked Scott, oblivious to his reddening face.

Everyone looked expectantly at Scott and the humiliated teen was forced to answer.

"A duck," he answered, gritting his teeth.


End file.
